


Dreams Undreamt

by precious_passenger (orphan_account)



Series: Goodnight, Sweetheart [2]
Category: Glee
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Cutting, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Manipulation, Episode: s03e14 On My Way, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Self Harm, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt, Texting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-15
Updated: 2014-03-28
Packaged: 2017-12-29 12:16:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 24
Words: 37,484
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1005326
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/precious_passenger
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This story is part two of "Goodnight Sweetheart" series, continuing Unanswered Goodbyes, this time from Kurt's POV. What happened to Kurt after "On My Way" episode. How did Karofsky's suicide attempt affect him.<br/>P.S: This could be read alone, but reading "Unanswered Goodbyes" first might be a good idea.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

While the McKinley high kids seemed to have ignored the fact that one of their own had wanted to take his own life just about a week ago, Kurt believed that he was still in shock.  
He couldn’t concentrate much in his classes. Not that it was something he did before; the lessons were too easy to capture his attention. He could pass any of it in his sleep. But the daydreaming was approaching to an alarming degree, that’s what happens when you only have few months of high school left.  
Poor Blaine, he thought. Two years of Dalton had prepared him to just graduate already. Many Calculus sessions, which sadly was one of the classes they were apart from each other in it, had been spent texting. Kurt had tried to cheer him up that now they get more time to hang out with each other. It’s an extremely unattractive and sadly often occurrence in his time at Dalton that he’d fall asleep in the middle of a movie or a date because he’d spent the whole day studying. This always lit up Blaine’s face and he’d grabbed his hand and although people weren’t as supportive as Dalton, it was easy to pretend they were in an empty hallway and just share loving glances along the way.  
He smiled at the lunch ladies as they filled his plate with some salad and today’s meal, which appeared to be stew of some sort. Anyone with the heart, and nose, to stand that much time near the food that revolting deserved an award, but sadly a smile and a muttered “thank you” would have to do for now.  
No, he was distracted because in history class apart from the usual cute text Blaine sent him, there was one more text. It was a simple “Starting therapy tomorrow. School sucks…- Dave” but somehow he couldn’t help but reread it until his teacher threatened to take away his phone.  
He’d invited Blaine to hang out that evening. Lately the boy seemed in his own shell, sad even, and he’d been extra clingy always making up an excuse to stay a few moments later, hold onto him longer. It was heading to a worrying pattern and Kurt was determined to find out what was happening with his boyfriend.  
Blaine had followed him in his car to Kurt’s home and was beside him, his hand circled around his waist as Kurt was unlocking the door. They hanged around in Kurt’s room, enjoying some moments of privacy, before Burt would go out of his way to step in front of his rooms, nagging about keeping the door open or worse, Finn stomping around the house like an unchained animal.  
“Do you want to watch a movie?” Kurt asked Blaine. Blaine nodded excitedly. They both knew that watching a movie was just an excuse to cuddle comfortably and maybe steal a few kisses and not innocent touches when they would get bored of plot. So that was why they had a standard set of movies they could watch that was too watched to miss anything important when that happened still not so boring that would ruin the mood and they’d fall asleep. So, with trial and error they’d gathered quite a collection.  
“How about Rent?” Kurt showed the DVD hopefully while Blaine was sitting across from him, with Moulin Rouge DVD in his hand.  
“Come on, Blaine. As much as “Come What May” is romantic to watch, we both know that listening to Satine coughing would be beyond distracting not to mention all the blood is a huge turn-off, and finally I become a hell of an emotional mess in the last scene.”  
“Fine, but next time I’m choosing.” Blaine agreed a small pout on his lips that Kurt kissed away as the movie started.  
There was nothing unusual during the first act. They laughed and sang along, Kurt soloing the “Today for you” and itching to stand up and dance, but the comfortable feeling of having Blaine gathered in his arms, counting his soft breaths was enough to remain just where he was.  
But during the second act, he could feel Blaine pulling further from him, turning his face away.  
Without you, the tides change, the boys run, the oceans crash.  
The crowds roar, the days soar, the babies cry, without you.  
The moon glows, the river flows, but I die, without you.  
He was almost sure that the boy was crying as the song was coming to close. The bed was shaking a bit and he could hear silent sniffles.  
Without you, the eyes gaze, the legs walk, the lungs breathe.  
The mind churns  
The heart yearns  
The tears dry, without you. Life goes on, but I’m gone.  
Cause I die, without you.  
Without you.

Kurt touched his shoulder gently. “Blaine?”  
He paused the movie when the boy didn’t make a move to show that he’d heard him. Finally, Blaine turned around and Kurt had mere seconds to react before Blaine lunged himself into his arms, no longer containing the sobs that was escaping freely now. Kurt rocked him back and forth gently, shushing him and rubbing his back as his mind scrambled useless thoughts. Blaine wasn’t upset over the scene, but it seemed that the scene triggered something in the boy that made him break down. But what?  
“I’m so scared, Kurt.” He whispered brokenly.  
“What are you scared of?” Kurt asked, baffled. What could’ve happened to him?  
“Losing you… finding you dead, just like…” and he lost it again.  
“I know that you had a shitty junior year, but you weren’t that bad, were you? You wouldn’t have thought of killing yourself?”  
Blaine was just so heartbroken and sad, and to think that it was because he was worried about him.  
“Did you ever think about it, Kurt?”  
So not everyone was over Karofsky’s suicide, it seemed. Of course, why didn’t it even occur to Kurt to watch out for his boyfriend? And to think that he was planning to join him visiting Dave in the hospital.  
There was another round of sobbing, this time Kurt shed a few tears himself and couldn’t help whispering into the boy’s ears “I’m right here Blaine, I’m not going anywhere”. And then he began assuring him that he wasn’t going to pull off anything like Karofsky did, and each time he’d kiss him, as if sealing that promise.  
Blaine looked noticeably better after that, but it was almost time to go. Kurt was glad Blaine had opened up to him and told him about his concerns. He was also glad that he’d thought of meeting after school today.  
“See you at school tomorrow?”  
“See you. I love you.”  
“Love you too.”  
And once again they were glued back together, by the simple words that never lost its meaning despite the familiarity. He felt a pang in his chest as Blaine pulled back from the kiss, waved him goodbye and went to unlock his car, driving away.  
Why didn’t he felt the need to end things?  
Maybe he never considered it an option for him. He wasn’t going to give himself time to even think about it. The idiots who mocked him and treated him like a piece of shit weren’t worth the time of his day. He’d brush it off. Although some days were particularly hard, like the day he was elected the prom queen, but he managed. And he had Blaine and his father, a new family and a group of friends in glee club that more than made up for some ignorant haters.  
Kurt Hummel didn’t get depressed or suicidal.


	2. Goodnight, Sweetheart

The phone buzzes one last time in his hands, making him jump and try to stifle a gasp.

This wasn’t supposed to become anything like this.

It was almost two weeks , thirteen days to be exact, after Dave Karofsky’s suicide attempt, ten days after Kurt had started texting him, three days after he’d learned that Dave had stopped going to therapy and almost an hour and a half after he’d found out that Dave was trying to kill himself again tonight.

His fingers started unlocking the screen without him having any awareness of doing so. Kurt hoped that this last message was just Karofsky informing him that all the last hour of desperate calls and messages had indeed helped and he’s just going to sleep everything off… or if it hadn’t helped then damn it, just say that all of this had been nothing but a silly little prank. Or it could be anybody, right? Just … could it be Blaine?

He missed his boyfriend dearly, and although he saw him more than he had ever hoped he would after transferring from Dalton, it never seemed enough.

He was being ridiculous. He had a much more urgent matter in his hand.

It was not this hard and time-consuming activity from the beginning. At first, it was just enough to send one or two texts between class breaks, usually answering the boy’s texts about the condition of his new school. Sometimes Kurt would just share a silly random observation in school, which the boy thanked him every time by a simple text of “Thank you for thinking about me, Kurt”. The paranoid part of him was actually terrified of it but it was always silenced by the rational part that reminded him that he should be happy for making Dave’s day a bit better.

And then in the afternoon, he’d listen to the boy go on and on about his therapy sessions, the conversation over the course of a week turned a little too detailed and personal for Kurt’s own taste but who was he to complain? Sometimes people just need to ramble on to get some thoughts out of their heads and think clearly. He was always happy to provide a listening ear, whether it was Rachel, bless her screeching voice or an ex-bully turned into something friendlier.

_“Goodbye, Kurt … - Dave”_

The simple less than twenty characters message was enough to turn Kurt’s world upside down.

Desperate calls that was instead answered by an idiot machine noise, informing him to try again later… _There might be no later, damn it_ …texts that were typed slower than he should’ve typed with no delivery reports … and then, voicemail… Kurt was pretty sure he’d been sobbing in his last voicemail.

_“ _I could have done more when_ Dave was having problems with Porcelain_” the voice of his ex-coach wouldn’t get out of his head.

Why couldn’t he do something right in his life?

Blaine went through enough crap at school for being his boyfriend, not to mention the slushie attack from Sebastian that was meant for him and almost cost Blaine his eye.

And his dad, who had a heart attack the one morning they had a disagreement.

" _Guys, we were all hard on Dave. We thought he was going to hurt Kurt. I just never thought he'd hurt himself."_

Damn it, why hadn’t he taken this one thing seriously? Dave wasn’t looking for just a friend to nag and ramble to, he was asking for help, he’d been asking for help and Kurt had just took everything lightly, making a joke of it. Why would he even think that distraction would work when you were spiraling down your depression? Who gives that kind of silly advice?

Who knew how many other mistakes he’d made and still think that he was … worth something?

_One more disaster I can add to my_

_Generous supply_

That night was the first of the many nights that Kurt forced himself to sleep with the help of the painkillers he always had ready in his cabinet but never used.

He felt like he hadn’t really slept when his alarm went off. He was never a morning person but today took disorientation to a whole new level. He couldn’t remember what he had for breakfast or if he’d moisturized, and next thing he knew he was in school and Blaine was holding his hand, guiding him to History class. The simple everyday gesture felt off for him. He’d promised Dave that he’d have that, and he’d become a chief editor of who knows what, if he just held on… But now what?

Blaine looked taken aback and a bit thoughtful as Kurt drew his hand back. Kurt couldn’t stand not knowing, his brain might blow up at any moment. Then a plan formed in his head.

How he could stand until launch period was a mystery, but right after the class finished, he jumped out of his car and drove straight to Karofsky’s school, trying to keep within speed limit and not let his shaking hands affect the car.

He had minimum trouble finding the school thanks to the GPS and the staff let him get into school with no fuss whatsoever. He went straight to the courtyard, as the lunch time was starting to end. The school didn’t feel like they’d received horrible news and was buzzing with noise and excitement. _This is good_ , he let himself be comforted by it _._ His eyes continued scanning the crowd until he found him, almost hidden in a corner, sitting miserably by a bench. Dave was looking at him, but made no move to approach. Kurt also couldn’t move. He felt his head move to give a single nod of acknowledgment that was returned. He inspected the boy for a few more seconds and then turned on his heels and left.

Keep your eyes on the road, don’t think.

When he reached home, it was empty. He had to start right now. He had to set everything right.

_"Act happy, feel happy, be happy, without a reason in the world. Then you can love, and do what you will...- Kurt"_

“:)” was the single reply.

Orange juice and cereal, he suddenly found out, _that’s what I’ve eaten for breakfast_ , and he felt the said meal’s taste right in his throat. He just had seconds to reach bathroom before throwing up.

Kurt was sure that he shouldn’t take this much dosage in less than 24 hours or he shouldn’t do it with no food in his stomach but fuck it, he just wanted sleep, and feel that numbness and relief.

He just had enough time to text Blaine and write an identical note on the refrigerator, “I’m fine, just tired. Don’t worry and don’t wake me up”.

Then he collapsed on his bed and without argument sleep took him in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The inspirational quote was from Dan Millman. No idea who he is. I just found the quote interesting.  
> The verse used in this chapter was No Good Deed from Wicked.


	3. Chapter 3

If he'd thought that the first two weeks of keeping in touch with Dave was hard, nothing could compare to the weeks after that.

McKinley was the same old dump it was; the only ray of light there was the few sessions of glee and lunch with the members. Kurt found himself easily startled by the smallest noise and that had become a popular target for the bullies, not that he already wasn't enjoying the VIP treatment the school body had for him. On the other hand, as the school was drawing to its last months, the teachers were picking up the pace and assigned tons of homework. The content of the homework was comical but the sheer amount of it was making Kurt's head hurt and make the sleepless nights even more distressing. And to top it all off, Rachel wouldn't leave him alone and bugged him for hours about potential audition songs, although they hadn't even received the preliminary acceptance letters. Escaping Rachel was a very difficult must-do.

So it wasn't much of a surprise that he was scatterbrained, rivaling with Brittany at some points. Burt had found his phone inside a pot in the kitchen, blasting away his ringtone _"Defying Gravity"_ …

"Where's your head, son? You were lucky I recognized that Gravity song it was playing or I could've sworn it was coming from the street."

He was feeling like a juggler, all these tasks in his hand and he, a very tired clown, counting the days for school to end.

And then there was Blaine, his very neglected and displeased boyfriend. Blaine was basically generating a "concerned" aura around him. Constantly trying to assure Blaine that he really was fine, was another added chore to the long list of things everyone was expecting him to do. He had to be extra careful around Blaine and try not to let his mind wander too far or Blaine had his own sweet way of trying to help that was not helping.

He wanted to tell Blaine to stop trying too hard to cheer him up, but he didn't want to break the boy's heart more than it he probably unintentionally did.

And then there were the texts from Karofsky, which were the debacle of the day. He'd actually had cancelled some of his online orders so he could afford to pay his phone bill. But it was one of the constant things in his life. and like a lottery ticket, sometimes it was easy and almost carefree, friendly even. While some others were extra hard, like settling an existential debate, which were usually on the worst time possible, like on a date with Blaine, or watching television with his dad.

And some messages just threw him in a loop.

" _I just wished I had died that day"_ or _"Nobody cares. What's the use of this life anyway?"_ These texts would just creep when he'd least expected it, usually after a set of friendly and safe ones and he knew he should know how to respond to that after that many texts but he couldn't. This was the jackpot, the scariest part. But each time after pulling Dave off from one of these funks he couldn't help but feel a bit proud, however short-lived it was.

Today, Blaine had tried to serenade him at glee today with P!nk of all things, and was making seductive faces at him, jumping up and down every imaginable furniture. It was amusing, to say the least. Blaine should've know by now that he was beyond sexy, if only he didn't try too much, because when he tried too much, wiggling his hips, singing and flirting with lines like:

_Everybody's dancing and they're dancing for me_

_I'm your operator, you can call anytime_

_I'll be your connection to the party line_

And basically wearing his "Notice me!" sign, it was just adorable. Far from a baby penguin look Kurt himself had of course, and more like a very handsome Taylor Launter in a clown dress.

But right then he felt a buzz going through his pocket, so he missed Blaine's antiques as he was belting the last note. It was just an advertisement from the local mall. He joined into the applause a minute too late, and he was sure Blaine noticed it as his face fell considerably.

He'd make up to Blaine. A coffee date after school maybe? But damn, he still had an unfinished essay for tomorrow and Rachel was looking at him like a predator. He waved to everyone once and exited the door. He would make it up later.


	4. Chapter 4

He doesn't know what he's dreaming about, but he knows that he is dreaming. There's no way his chest would be filled with this much calm and peace in real life. Everything is so unreal without the constant nagging there, without all the worry that had been eating him alive for a while now.

He looks around in his daze, becoming aware of his surroundings. He'd slept on his desk, music softly playing his top played soundtracks. His face feels buried in layers after layers of dead skin. He's given up looking at himself in the mirror a long while ago.

Kurt rubbed his eyes and started to sit up slowly, his head spinning slightly. He tried to count in his head when was the last time he had eaten anything solid, something other than his magic ingredients: water, salt and sugar. Both Tasteless and revolting at the same time. His mind failed him. It wasn't the first time.

Kurt glanced around, searching for his phone. He had developed the habit of reminding everyone to text him now and then. _"Hey Rachel, don't forget to text me the name of the song later" …"Will do, Tina, but just in case send me a message so I won't forget"… "Sure, Mercedes, text me the details of that scarf, I'll look it up later"_

He'd made sure to throw it casually in his sentences so he wouldn't seem needy, desperate or suspicious.

But then there was Blaine. He couldn't ignore the beating he'd feel in his stomach each time Blaine got on his car to drive home. He couldn't help his voice breaking every time he reminded him to send him a message, it doesn't even have to contain a text, he'd insist, as soon as he got home. What if he lost Blaine? What if he forgot to call him? What would be left of him, then? Shit, he was so pathetic.

He fetched it from under his notes, heartbeat stopping and continuing double speed as he looked at the single message it was displayed on the screen. The message that was sent less than a minute ago, its buzzing sound no doubt rose him up from his sleep.

" _I'm thinking about it again… - Dave"_

Thoughts rushed to his head. He'd contemplated putting Dave in his blocked numbers, so he wouldn't get an alert when he texted him. _Stupid, why would you even think that?_ Dave needed him. How dare he could give up on him? Not after failing him the first time. How bad this time would be? Would Dave hang up on him and turn his phone off again? Please, no.

He banged his head against the desk once. The action stopped surprising him long ago. He had the sudden image of a flickering flashlight, dying away, that you'd hit against a hard surface for a few more moments of light. He couldn't afford to get lost in thoughts now. With his head cleared up, he fell into the procedure, the routine.

Kurt pressed the button to call, always preferring not to text, although texting never showed how distressed he himself was. It went straight to the voicemail.

" _Dave, please, pick up the phone. Just don't think about it. Distract yourself. Call me if you need to talk."_

Silence followed, almost making Kurt hope that he'd succeed. But then a buzz, followed by another, brought him back from his supposed victory.

" _I wish I'd waited longer that day I decided to hang myself. Or just followed my original plan and did it at school."_

" _I can't go on like this, Kurt. No one would miss me now. I'm crying in my room and no one has even noticed. I wish I'd died a month ago."_

Kurt felt cold chill spreading through him. His fingers shook as he typed the next text.

_"You Safe?"_

The answer wouldn't come and Kurt could feel his throat closing up, his head spinning slightly. He felt like he'd throw up at any moment now. His nails began to dig painfully in his skin, circling the surface in a crazy pattern.

_"I'm safe. You don't have to feel worried for me, Kurt. I'm too much of a coward to try it again"_

Kurt exhaled loudly. The sentence never failed to bring a brief wave of relief Kurt clung to.

_"Are you alone?"_

The silence in his room chilled him to his core, he turned the volume up.

_"No, mom is here. She's arguing with dad downstairs. Surprise, surprise!"_

_"You know that I'd be devastated if you'd died. And I'm sure a lot of others would too."_

_"Really?"_

_"Of course. Just stay strong, Dave."_

" _I don't want to stay strong. I just want to feel normal again."_

_Me too_ , Kurt thought to himself. _Let's just kill ourselves together and get this all over… what's the use of continuing this life anyway?_ He ignored the annoying voice in his head and typed.

" _It will get better. You've got to believe it. Someone will love you no matter your flaws, because of your flaws even. You're fabulous; the world just can't see it now, but it will."_

" _You're right. I feel so much better now."_

Was he lying? Or did he really help?

" _I'm glad."_

" _Thank you, Goodnight."_

" _Goodnight."_

Kurt threw his phone in the bed, it landed on the floor, but he couldn't care less. He resisted sliding down the floor as well. He refused to let himself think. Today, it wasn't that bad. But it made him feel drained just like any other day.

He crawled up the stairs, forcing his feet to move despite their protest, dragging himself to the kitchen, contemplating his next move. He had to be away from his room, from his mind, at least for a while.

He filled a glass with water and took a gulp. He held back a gag and began sipping some more, slowly.

On his way back, he looked at the closed doors frantically.

He heard the muffled voices of a video game behind Finn's door. He leaned his head against the door and weighted his options. Clueless Finn was probably his safest choice if he just wanted to spend some time away from himself. But Kurt had soon found out, the chances that Finn would say something innocent that would drive him over his limit were pretty high.

He stood in front of the other door, feeling like a kid again. How he wished he could go to his dad and just lose it… became a blubbering mess while Burt held him, because he couldn't feel like he was able to hold himself again.

Or he could just go and lie on the floor of his parents' bedroom, right under Burt's side. The thought brought back a string of memories. After his mother had passed away, he couldn't make himself move to her side and sleep in the same bed as his fathers' so he settled on the floor, letting the steady rhythm of Burt's breathing calm down his own. His dad had become used to checking the floor before getting off the bed, after stepping on his sleeping son in more than one occasion. Little Kurt claimed to never know how he'd end up there, he blamed sleep walking sometimes. Burt's eyes would become glassy and he'd try to subtly clue his son in that he could ask for his help. He should accept the hugs, even though they were somehow hesitant and awkward, not the soft and gentle ones he was missing. It wasn't until one time that Burt had slid beside him on the floor and held him in his arms after he crawled in the bedroom that it stopped feeling like it was the end of the world and got a little better.

He could just quietly wake Carole up and think of an excuse to … fuck, no, what's he thinking? He could get through the night without creeping his family out.

He made his way to his own room. It was a school night. Tomorrow, well today, would be hell. If only he could catch another hour or two of sleep.

He almost didn't realize where he was going until he felt a sharp pain on his wrist. What the..?

He was sitting on the bathroom floor, the scissor held in his hand, tracing the lines of his vein. Writing words. Tonight he pushed the scissor deeper than he'd used to. The irritated skin not healing immediately, but leaving a thin line of scratch shaped line.

Just do it, you're really close. _I wonder what new movie I have on my laptop._

That blade won't do shit. _What's that song playing? Is it from the scene when Satine finds out about her illness? How did the next verse go? Think, Kurt, think._

Just pick a shard of glass, or a real razor. _Orange shouldn't be in trend anymore._

He knew if he dropped his scissor far enough, he wouldn't have the energy to pick it up again. But he couldn't let go.

I'm not technically harming myself now, am I? _Fuck you, Kurt Hummel, who cares what the technicalities are? You're scaring the fuck out of yourself. Just get up and leave the bathroom._

He got up from the floor, wobbling to his bed. Turning off the music and lights. He stared at the darkness, silence offering him the soft blanket that couldn't calm him anymore.


	5. Don't Dream, It's Over

What was the hardest part of Kurt's day, you'd ask, and the answer would be the single "I'm fine, how are you?" response he'd give to Dave, a ritual of Dave to ask after Kurt's day and then launch into his own miserable story. Nothing annoyed more Kurt than writing that "I'm fine", even though he really was fine, because the contrast of his problems with Dave's were laughable.

Stupid lunch ladies, it seems that it didn't occur to them that he's just smiling to them without any ulterior motive to get more food. Honestly, the amount they already put in the tray is gigantic. Not to mention the smell. Even though in the past week he'd been giving almost all of his food to Finn, which was an absolute joy and success for both boys. But as luck would have it, Blaine had somehow caught up on it and was making sure that Kurt had enough on his tray to eat, denying Finn the second helping, and so did the lunch ladies it seemed, because lately it was as if he had a sign of "under-fed child" on his forehead or something because they'd began ignoring their aversion to interacting with an obvious outcast student and offered to come with them to the kitchen for a "nice warm meal" or "come for a chat and a place to eat". Nothing makes you hate your life more, Kurt concluded, when even the lunch ladies pity you.

The thing none seemed to understand was, Kurt Hummel didn't stop eating because he'd gotten depressed or didn't like his body. The problem was he always threw up afterwards and when he could survive with basic minerals and some sugar in his system and be happy with it, so why bother?

Did he wish that he wasn't like this? Sure, he wished it with every spinning of his head. Of course, Kurt missed being normal, but right now he was feeling on edge and far from normal that even remembering the time that he was less tense seemed like a kind of fantasy. Just like his dreams, which were more like nightmares. When he was able to sleep, nightmare were a given.

 _Sleep_ , Kurt chuckled darkly to himself, earning a few turned heads. It was as if sleep had declared itself Kurt's mortal enemy. The brief moments when he slipped into unconsciousness were filled with scenes causing lots of crying and screaming, and wow, had the dreams always been that real? Some even had scenarios of various people in his life finding out about his condition and just stood there with cold, judging eyes before leaving, though the string of degrading words never faded.

So what that sometimes he had to apply pressure to his palms to keep himself grounded? So what that he'd started carrying a scissor in his bag? Everyone had crazy habits. Some shoved kids into the lockers and some had to think of dead and wounded bodies to get through school hour. Some daydreamed of what they'd do after school or in the weekend, or where they'd go out with their special ones, he'd daydream of excuses to avoid one.

He'd thrown up after so many dates with Blaine and made up so many excuses that avoiding his boyfriend were also added to his list of must-do. Come to think of it, except for his family, he avoided everyone else. However, lately, avoiding the family seemed like a perfect idea too.

Every time he saw his father, or watched Burt doing some daily activity like watching TV or shuffling through the magazine or taking off his baseball cap to scratch his head, Kurt would feel the pang in his chest. The similarity and the repeat each ritual had throughout his life and childhood reminded Kurt furthermore how far from his expectations his life had become.

Or that sometimes he'd just wanted a hug or just some comforting words from Burt but how would someone ask for it? That's just silly. He wasn't a kid anymore. He had to be able to face his own problems without whining like a baby.

Or just yesterday, he'd got tired of degrading himself by writing words on his wrists and risked going to Finn's room. The boy not only had the single most gruesome video game Kurt ever had the displeasure to watch, it was also spiced with Finn's excited chants and lots of moving and ducking in his chair " _This isn't 3D, Finn_ ", or various threats Finn would make to inanimate objects, but when the demo showed the game character hanged on the game screen after losing the round, it was the last straw. His mind forgot to not remember that forbidden information and it came crashing back.

"Must charge phone… only ten percent left…don't wait up… nice game" he heard himself mumbling and went straight to his bathroom and underlined the "STUPID" on his arm several times, not stopping until scratchy lines began to hurt a bit.

He remembered the first time when the scar he'd make wouldn't fade right away and he'd panicked and began promising himself that he'd stop and went to sleep with his phone turned off and without any painkillers. And the happiness he'd felt when in the morning he'd found the scar gone, it was too much like the real happiness nothing but a memory was left of it.

But now, there was no stopping… He was not an official cutter; the blade hadn't even once pierced his skin. He could resist. He just did it for stress relief. It was weird and beyond crazy but it was safe, or at least that's what Kurt believed.

Just sometimes, safe wasn't enough… it wasn't just enough to drug himself up to the point when he couldn't feel his jaw and felt lightheaded instead…damn it, it just wasn't enough…


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warning: a dub/non-con scene. It's very brief but I felt I should warn. I've put a warning before the paragraph just in case and there's a spoiler about what it is in the end notes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, this is all I have posted of this series so the next updates might take even more longer to post.  
> Also you could check out my newest one-shot, [Not in My Castle on the Cloud ](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1008076) , yeah, don't give me that look, it's my story so I can self advertise as much as I want :P but, please don't leave me :D

Kurt knew he was dreaming again. The clues to this were included but not limited to the fact that he couldn't feel the burden of his anxiety choking him. He was also wearing the pants that he knew for a fact wouldn't fit him anymore and had sold for a good profit online. Blaine also was there in his dream. They were in Kurt's old house, in his old bed in the basement and they were kissing. Blaine was wearing socks, _another clue that I'm dreaming_ , thought Kurt to himself but smiled as he felt the lips in a very un-dreamlike way tracing his cheekbone. Hands roamed over his ribs, tickling slightly. Blaine would pull up now and then to place an innocent but firm kiss on his mouth before resuming his exploring once more.

He missed having these dreams, which embarrassingly started before they were even officially dating. Usually they were made up of gentle touches and chaste kissing. He closed his eyes and soaked up the touches that soothed him, all the jabs he received at school and hard weeks' exhaustion completely vanishing away. It was unbelievable, the feeling happiness and bliss filling him instead. So that was why he was greatly disappointed and shocked that he felt the bed squeak and Blaine's weight lifted from it. Why is Blaine leaving? It was _his_ dream after all. He opened his eyes to find out that Blaine wasn't on top of him anymore; in fact he was nowhere to be seen.

Then he heard someone sniffling. The noise was coming from other side of bed and Kurt sat up to see. His jaw fell open in shock. It was Karofsky there, wearing a Dalton pajama of all things and crying. All of a sudden Kurt was nervous. Dave noticed Kurt's stare and hiccupped, revealing the cell phone in his hands " _This_ is not helping".

Kurt felt all the horror coming back, blocking his throat. Dave continued to look at him, shaking the phone accusingly at him "It's all your fault, you know"

Kurt opened his mouth to protest but he was unable to make a sound.

* * *

**~ Warning ~**

Dave inched closer to him and repeated "This is not helping", and then softly, "I want more…"

Kurt wanted to ask him what the hell was he talking about but dream-Kurt was moving towards Dave. Kurt felt like he had no control over his body, almost like he was watching from afar. He could feel the resigned look on his own face and he felt tired, just so damn tired. He leaned over and kissed Dave's lips. He felt a dam break inside him and soon he was wordlessly screaming at himself to stop, but was instead forced to watch and feel each kiss. Each time he was opening his mouth to scream, dream-Kurt would push his head forward to meet Karofsky's eager lips.

He broke off the kiss for a moment looking frantically around, searching for a way out. That was when his eyes caught the sight of someone who should be the one he was sharing this dream with, someone who should now be looking at him with hatred, coldness and judgment.

But he didn't see any of those in Blaine's eyes. His eyes were distant, because, Kurt soon found out in absolute terror, he was dead. He was lying in a large pool of blood, his head was smashed in, his body broken and he couldn't even go there and hold him in his arms because Karofsky was lying on top of him, crushing him in a semi-embrace.

He turned his eyes at Karofsky, and Dave's eyes turned pleading "I want you, Kurt, I need you." And he was guiding Kurt's hand , and it was getting dangerously close to his …. Oh, please no.

And dream-Kurt was actually letting him.

_No, No , No, Not anymore, I want out, Get me out._

Kurt was half-sobbing, half screaming the words and somehow he was relieved to find out, he finally broke free of the dream and woke up, sweating like a madman and whispering something over and over again. It was some time later that he realized he'd been calling out for his mother, "Mommy", all this time. The realization brought back another line of memories and flashbacks that were just too much. He kneeled on the bed, his forehead touching the mattress as actual physical pain circulated in his body. When pain became bearable enough to uncurl himself, he forced his feet to take him to the bathroom.

He knew that in his current state he would rip his veins apart without any second thought. There was still a bit of self-preservation in him to avoid doing that. So he went straight to the shower. He turned the temperature to the hottest degree that was possible and leaned his head against the wall letting the water run over him for about half an hour. Even then as the water was scorching his skin, he felt cold and shudders were running through his body. The action seemed oddly familiar to him. Only when he started drying off he remembered why. He did the exact same thing when Karofsky had kissed him in the locker room.

He popped three painkillers in his mouth and swallowed them dry, afraid that getting water in his system would make him throw up and waste the precious pills.

He was too tired to argue with himself about the consequences of his actions. He knew that his body would get used to the dosage soon enough and would stab him in the back if he continued taking pills. Already he had gone from half a pill to three to actually feel the blessed numbness.

**~ End Warning ~**

* * *

Lunch period, Hell on Earth. If McKinley was hell, which Kurt believed to be true, then cafeteria had to be the max point. Normally it smelled of the mixture of foods it was served and he could smell the odor even in the hallways since morning, which made him even more agitated.

They had pasta today, and it was driving Kurt insane. The noodles were all tangled up in each other and when he tried to separate them with his fork, more sauce smeared on it, it was a chaos. Every time he lifted his fork to eat it, he'd see all those knots in them and the mushroom smell would hit him and he'd put it down, no doubt looking like an idiot the whole time. He could actually feel Blaine's gaze on him as he stood up and muttered.

"I can't eat this shit, it's so messy."

Stupid piece of food, it didn't even land like he wanted it to. It just kind of dumped uselessly on top of other garbage, the contents still half visible. It was so frustrating.

Blaine stopped him on his way out, and reminded him that he would be coming to Blaine's house after school. _It's important_ he'd said and Kurt just nodded. After waiting frantically in front of Blaine's locker to see if Blaine was actually healthy, _and alive_ , Kurt shuddered at the memory of the dream, the desire to see the boy faded. He saw, however, how Blaine's eyes lit up and his face broke into a huge grin when he saw him standing in front of his locker, but Kurt just ducked his head and left without saying nor doing anything further than a muttered "Hi".

What kind of boyfriend was he now? Dreaming of kissing another boy, neglecting Blaine for far too long and just now, he wouldn't, couldn't look at him.

Some days ago in his madness he'd accidentally revealed his phone number to Sebastian, the evil weasel, and had to face one or two texts of cocky blabbers of the boy every now and then. He immediately deleted those texts. There were nothing special, just a few snarks thrown randomly, but one look at them would question why Blaine was still with him? Perfect, warm and kind Blaine that had to force his own boyfriend to meet him after school. To talk to him. To look at him.

He was ringing Blaine's doorbell when Karofsky messaged him. He wanted to meet up this week. Kurt tried to remember when his free periods were but concentrating was so hard these days.

Blaine called out to him.

"Come on, Kurt. You wouldn't talk to me. At least talk to Ms. Pillsbury. She'll know what to do. You know the last time I talked to her…"

Didn't Blaine see it? Even if it was separation anxiety he couldn't get help. He was too stuck. Also Ms. Pillsbury wore the most annoying bows ever made that were not only a fashion suicide, but so crooked that Kurt just wanted to rip it off and iron it again and again.

" _Not now, I don't have time for that."_ He mumbled distractedly, typing out a text suggesting meeting up in the weekend instead.

Blaine wouldn't back off though.

"Or your dad, or Carole. Just do something. You're scaring me, Kurt.">

 _I'm scaring me too_ , Kurt wanted to say but he just replied an automatic _"I'm perfectly fine."_

_Why wasn't the damn boy answering? Dave wasn't mad that he couldn't make it in the week now, was he?_

Blaine's shout made him almost drop his phone and look up, startled.

"No, you're not. Kurt, this isn't healthy"

His shocked face seemed to make Blaine angrier.

"Now he's listening. Do I have to shout all the time to get your attention?"

Blaine paced the room, which was making Kurt's head spin, and he was still shouting.

"All you do is type away in your phone. What do you have in there that's more important than me, huh?"

His phone was suddenly snatched away from his hands.

_No, No, NO._

He wanted to shout. He couldn't understand the part of him that was feeling happy, almost relieved. There was absolutely nothing happy about that moment. His emotions were a jumble of mess.

"Kurt?"

_He's going to find out. He's going to leave me._

Cold, everything was just so cold. He could actually feel his brain freezing.

"Kurt, honey, you alright?"

He couldn't lose Blaine. He knew that the boy would have to leave him sooner rather than later. That maybe all this avoiding he did in the past week was just another step his subconscious made to make everything easier for Blaine. But, right now, when he was so close to actually accomplishing it, he was chickening out. _Stupid self-centered brat,_ he thought to himself disgustedly.

His words mashed into each other, making a string of words that were out, without him having any control over it.

"I'm so sorry Blaine. I'll be better. I'll get better. Please don't leave me."

This was so bad. It was a true disaster. There were all lies. How was he supposed to get better? If Blaine wasn't planning on leaving him up until then, he should be seriously considering it now.

But it seemed to calm Blaine down and hugged him while Kurt was battling the tears. He was too tired to cry and he was tired of crying. He didn't want to waste any more tears on himself.

Kurt tried to stay awake, he really did. He didn't want to have another nightmare, but it was just so hard to think when Blaine was tunelessly humming in his ear and rocking him like a baby. _I don't deserve his love,_ was the last thought that went through his mind before he succumbed to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The dub/non con scene is a brief Kurtofsky scene in Kurt's dream. He dreams of kissing Karofsky instead of Blaine and then Karofsky tries to get some more (description not graphical) but before anything happens he wakes up. Then he takes a shower, pops some painkillers and goes back to sleep, feeling guilty for having that dream.


	7. Maybe Tomorrow, You'd Realize

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, I spent these couple of days of strict “no working on dreams shattered”, basically thinking about ways to add some plot and making this a less “angst-fest”. I'm sorry in advance if this chapter is weird.  
> Also, I’m proud to announce that today I wrote the final, Final chapter.  
> So much for doing homework. Oh well…

When Kurt got back to his home, he thought a lot about the promise his half-crazed mind made to Blaine. He obviously needed to work on that. As much as he wanted to be left alone, he didn’t want it. His emotions were so confusing lately. Like take in Karofsky, for example. He’d be dreading the moments that the boy would text him and ask for advice on how to “keep on living in this rotten, fucking world”, but then he realized, when Karofsky _didn’t_ do that, the nervousness was much worse in comparison. The thoughts that crawled their way into head were almost brutal. And, now that he’d come face-to-face with Blaine calling him out on his behavior, which would soon lead to a breakup, he knew he couldn’t take it, as much as good it will do for both of them.

It was the end of disco week, tons of dancing and more than enough ridiculous clothes. Finn had mentioned what Mr. Shuster’s true intentions were in picking “Saturday Night Fever” as this week’s theme, and honestly as much as it upset him that he wasn’t going to get the suit, it was a great idea, Finn at least needed some guidance, but seriously, through disco? Well, at least Blaine was happy with the assignments, being the one to prepare the opening number of the week and dancing alongside Mr. Shuester and Sue.

When he head Mercedes and Santana confessed their dream careers, it hit Kurt how he’d disappointed himself in that department. If he had to pretend to be that same self he was before all this shit happened, a lot of things needed to be done. Even if he really didn’t remember how it felt like, being carefree and happy, he knew what actions it took to get that result, so what if it wouldn’t havethe same feeling it once held? Maybe one day, he would.

As they finished strutting around the school in white polyester suits, which were like begging to be slushied, Kurt thought sarcastically, singing about staying alive, _what a true dilemma_ , Kurt’s resolve strengthened and he found the perfect time to put his plans into action.   

“Hey, Rachel, wait up!” he called suddenly, surprising Rachel as well as himself. He’d kept direct contact with his girls in the past month to the minimum possible, although the few texts were welcome. It made him feel guilty, like he was using them and it gave him more drive to fix that, well at least, pretend to fix, oh well, _potato… potahtoh_.

“How’s the song hunting with NYADA going?” and then a very excited and bubbly Rachel was crushing him in a tight hug. It felt like a floodgate opening. “Oh my god, Kurt. I was going to plan a Poune-vention for you soon. Does this mean we’re going to have daily meetings in my house, trying to find best songs that would showcase our talents and practice at least one each day? You know, I’ve narrowed it down to two pages so I desperately need your opinion about it…”

“Woah, woah, Rachel, chill out! Every day? Are you what…crazy?” Kurt laughed, her excitement instantly catching up with him.

He drove to Rachel’s house, which soon turned to a sleepover. Well, if you could call it a sleepover, when he was working like a slave through dozens of songs and looking into different videos of last year’s NYADA nominee’s performances. The information one would get in four hours internet surfing was mind-blowing.

In the end, their list was expanded to three pages for each of them, sorted alphabetically, with little numbers prioritizing their choice orders.

Kurt dug into his homework with a grimace prominent on his face. As soon as he arrived home, he collapsed into his bed and slept for ten straight hours, which was not a good way to start off the weekend with the amount of essays he had to write. He had to make Rachel swear on her bible, well, Barbra Streisand’s signed biography that this crazy ritual had to limited to at least once a week, until they know exactly when they would be performing. Still, he couldn’t help but hum _Evita_ while solving math. It was easier, when all he had to worry about was trying to fit in tall and over decorated walls of Dalton Academy. His phone buzzed and he was reminded, once more, one of the many reasons why. 

 

If Mr. Shuester was planning to depress them to death with these weekly assignments, Whitney after Disco, he might success. Nothing is sadder than when your glee club teacher is trying too hard to understand you. “Whitney is just a physical representation of your pain”… Really, who the hell says that kind of stuff in real life? Kurt is more than familiar with pain, and tell you what, getting away from this loser land McKinley is NOT pain.

“Lots of changes coming up, lots of...saying good-bye. To your friends, to your significant others, to the last four years of your life.” Mr. Shuester had said next, and somehow that hit Kurt the most, he’d have to say goodbye to Blaine, and that was not something he was willing to do, like, ever.

They shyly began letting each other back into their lives. Kurt tried to make more time and plan their dates more often, which would never collide with a meal so they’d have to eat out and have Blaine go all health doctor on him. Surprisingly, Blaine adapted to that silent rule, happy with all that Kurt had to offer, quick pecks before classes and cuddles in the choir room. He no longer pushed him to reveal more. But this week, he’d been quite insistent about him visiting “Between the Sheets” a music store that had just opened in Lima. And that’s where he met Chandler. Chandler was overly sweet and a huge dork, he strangely reminded Kurt of his sophomore year, with all the enthusiasm and the love for clothes. He was like a cloned version of Kurt, and he could see them staying friends all through their stay in New York, which was why when Chandler asked for his phone number, he’d given it to him almost without any hesitation. What he didn’t expect was the sound of a buzz almost immediately when Chandler left the store. His heartbeat sped up and he could feel its beat in his throat but when he unlocked the screen it was just an unknown message, Chandler, he later realized with some very cheesy pick-up line.

Kurt shook his head, flustered. Really, the last thing he needed was another person spamming his inbox with messages. But, soon, another text followed.

_“Mom’s offering to drive me to a shrink today… I’m done with that. I think I’d prefer a rope around my throat. ”_

Kurt read the text once, twice and third time. That’s odd, he could feel anxiousness and dizziness as Dave had referred to both his suicide attempt and refusing to see a therapist… heavy, scary subjects, but it was less overwhelming, like he was the one in control. Another text followed soon.

_“Whitney is amazing, but your voice would razzle dazzle the crowd, and me.”_

He replied as he was unlocking his door.

_“I’m sure it would ;) ”_

_“Hang in there, Dave, it’ll be good. Maybe therapy would do some good though…hmm?”_

A bing sounded on his phone, Kurt waited before the other bing and he unlocked his screen.

_“The word therapist should really be changed to the rapist… Because that’s what they’ll do to you, they’ll rape your mind.”_

_“Are you questioning my judgment? You send me any song you ever sung and I swear I’m going to burst from joy.”_

Kurt smiled, feeling strangely….relaxed.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Something really horrible happened and the plus side of it is I’m in the mood to continue this story. Life sucks right now. Ok, rant over. Enjoy the new chapter. I tried to distinguish the texts by putting it in italics.

Whitney week was in full effect. Santana and Britney preformed their duet to start off the week and all of the glee club participated in the dance. Kurt was leaning by his locker’s door, texting, when he felt someone approaching him. He looked up and saw Rachel skipping to his locker. After their sleepover, Rachel seemed to be glued to his side all the time and she shared anything remotely related to singing and NYADA. In the middle of her rant, though, she noticed his cell phone and the sheepish look on his face and brightened up more, which should be impossible, but not for Rachel Berry.

“Oh, I know what that is.” She exclaimed happily, tickling his side slightly, “Finn sends me cutsie text messages all the time. Usually, they're puns about my boobs, but I still appreciate the effort.”

Huh, so that’s why Finn sometimes looks so lost in his own world when he’s on his phone. Kurt has to admit, as much unsettling it is to watch Finn’s thoughtful look, because that hardly ever happens and _ewww, boobs,_ it seems kind of caring and sweet in a roundabout way.

“It's not from Blaine,” he whispers, suddenly very interested in dents in his locker.

Rachel squeals in his ear, “th-then who is it?”

 _Ok, that’s going too far, Rachel has got the wrong idea_ , Kurt thought, so he sets quickly for some damage control, “He's just a guy. I met him at Between the Sheets. His name is Chandler. He's-he's nice.”

“And what did Mr. Between the Sheets say then?” Rachel asks mischievously, like, like, this is some hot piece of gossip. Kurt blushes at her implication.

“Nothing…We just joke around. It's sweet,” he tries so reassure her but it’s not working, so he shows some of the messages, because really, it doesn’t mean anything. It’s not like he has feelings for Chandler or anything.

But when he heard Rachel’s shocked gasp and mile a minute questions which soon turns to some sort of inquisition, he has to admit it’s not as innocent as it seems. But, Blaine had done so himself, with Sebastian of all people, and he said it didn’t mean anything, so this shouldn’t either.

“Would you show Blaine those text messages?” Rachel asks.

“Of course not,” was the immediate response. “Oh, well, then I guess it's not that innocent,” Rachel said and took off.

A single vibrate from his phone alerted him of another text, but Kurt ignored it purposefully. He’d felt so good in the past days so really, there was no need to complicate things further. He would have to detach himself from Chandler. That was the new plan, soon after Blaine approached his locker. 

“You’re in a cheerful mood today. Did you find a song?”

 _This is the last text I’ll look_ , Kurt thought as he glanced at the phone, silly text asking for tips on what to wear and smiled at his phone, before getting his books for the next period and closing the locker.

“Oh, yeah. I’m planning to sing _“So Emotional”_ , and dedicate it to my amazing boyfriend, so all glee girls would die of jealousy.”

Specially Rachel, because, hello? He’s not cheating and this is all innocent and he could stop it whenever he wanted.

“And why would they die?”

Blaine’s question caught him off guard and he stared at him in horror. Who’s going to die, what did he say? It was like his mind just went blank.

“You just said it now. How all glee girls would die after hearing your song…?”

Focus, Kurt, he chanted to himself, forcing his frown to smoothen and his expression turn happy.

“Because I get so emotional baby, every time I think of you…” he sang and threw his arms around Blaine so the choking feeling would dissipate.

The next day both Joe and Quinn and later, Santana and Rachel preformed and Kurt more or less stuck to his decision of not looking at his phone, at least during the performances. But then after practice, when he was heading toward his car, among the tons of texts Chandler sent him was a single text that caused a shudder go through his body.

_“Kurt?”_

_This doesn’t mean anything, you’re over reacting_ , Kurt snapped at his thoughts that were spinning out of control. _This is bad, this is really really bad._

_“Good afternoon, how are you? I was in glee practice and didn’t see your text until now. What’s up?”_

He replied and hurried to get home faster. He waited until he was secure in his room to open the arrived text.

_“Ms. White happened.”_

He couldn’t remember anything about Ms. White, just that she was a teacher in Dave’s school. Why was his brain choosing this moment to block out the details? He sent a text nevertheless.

_“What are you doing now?”_

He tried to change his clothes when waiting for Karofsky’s reply, but the reply came too soon to allow that.

_“Lying on my bed, what am I supposed to do?”_

Slowly, memories poured in. Ms. White was one of the teachers who was slightly homophobic and religious and thought suicide was the biggest sin, she’d try to talk to David often.

_“Can I do something? Do you want me to call? Do you want to meet in Lima Bean or something?”_

Breadstix was off limits after that night.

_“I don’t think I can talk about it now. How are you?”_

Awful, choking, I can barely hold the phone in my hands right now.

_“I’m fine. How are you considering…?”_

_“terrible…”_

A shiver went down his hands and he felt his stomach drop to ground.

_“Is there anyone else you could talk to? How about your councilor or the principal?”_

_“If I could talk to somebody, I’d talk to you. But I can’t.”_

A month ago this message would make Kurt’s heart fill with pride and a sense of accomplishment, but, right now there was just dread and the feeling of responsibility on his shoulders.

_“That’s totally understandable. I’m here, If you ever want a distraction or a serious talk. Please take care of yourself.”_

_“Thanks for being here, Kurt. I don’t know why I sent the text when I knew I couldn’t talk.”_

Kurt could feel a deep ache in his heart.

_“That’s fine. Do what you need to do.”_

_“Take care.”_

_“You too.”_

Kurt stared at the patterns in his bed; then, he blindly attached and sent a link of Lady Gaga’s performance of “Born this way” and after the delivery response threw the phone on the bed.

He could feel bile in his throat, but that’s ridiculous, he hadn’t eaten anything all day. He could feel the taste of mouthwash and toothpaste as he threw up a few seconds later. He could feel his veins were on fire. He traced them subconsciously with his finger.

He got up to his laptop and selected the first movie that captured his attention, “ _Mary Poppins_ ”. Each time the children would laugh or sing, he’d make strange gasping sounds that terrified him even more, he looked ready to cry but no tears would come. His phone vibrated for a few more times but he ignored it, hugging his pillow tighter to his chest. After about half an hour of this ordeal, there was a knock on his door, startling him. Burt entered his room, “hey buddy, Blaine is on the phone, he said you’re not answering yours, something about when to visit for a movie marathon?”

Burt took in the scene, Kurt’s phone and the puffy eyed owner on the bed, “Kurt, are you alright?”

Kurt nodded two, three times, dabbing at his eyes, willing them to stop burning, “I’m fine, dad. Just tired. I’ll be there in a minute.”

He waited until his father left the room to pick up his phone. Blaine was on hold downstairs. He shuffled through his texts to find a now familiar number, _Chandler_.

_“So, New York, you say? Can you imagine getting out of here and going to NEW YORK?”_

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I desperately need a pick-me-up right now. Also, I don’t know how I’m doing with this fic, I get like no responses or anything so I don’t know how people like with the direction this story is going, or even if they’re interested in more, I’m going to continue but one of the reasons for the reduced pace of updating is sadly the lack of any outside opinion.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Depressing thoughts, Cutting, suicidal thoughts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I’ve been listening to Demi Lovato’s newest album the whole day. I was looking for when glee would come back from hiatus and one thing led to another and one hour later I was reading Demi’s biography and all that. I don’t know what to say, really. Just for anyone out there who needs it: Stay Strong.

Cut the half of the half-toast in half. Pour some coffee; make sure to put extra sugar or milk. Pick up the homework or some magazines and try to eat without thinking you’re about to eat. Blaine would be arriving in about half an hour and Kurt can’t make a fainting fool of himself. His appetite is non-existent and he feels like chewing on a piece of cardboard but he’s not going to dwell on that, he really really isn’t trying to think about food, the smell or anything. This is toast, the blandest food in universe. Bite, chew, swallow and sip the coffee. Damn, this feels like getting stuck in elementary school.

When Blaine arrives there’s only half of the toast left, so Kurt could call that a progress. They settle quietly on his bed, watching the movie, _Being Bobby Brown_. Kurt could hardly focus, he was becoming sleepy and the steady puffs of warm air Blaine was breathing to the back of his neck was not helping, so his mind began to wander, reminding himself that he was being a bad host and boyfriend for not feeding Blaine, he could feel the slight rumble of Blaine’s stomach as well as hear the growling when the sounds of the television go quiet. It’s hard to remember that not anybody has a hating relationship with food.

 

So, he fought the comfortable heat and drowsiness telling him not to get up and walked into kitchen, picking up some snacks that had survived Finn and refilled his usual bottle of salt and sugary water. Just in case. Kurt grabbed Finn’s hoodies from the table, intending to put it on the chair, but after being cooped up under two layers of blankets, it felt kind of chilly so fashion statements forgotten he put it on and climbed the stairs back up.

The sight he met on his door made him almost drop the tray, an odd hissing sound escaped from his mouth. “What’s this?” Blaine asked, almost innocently and it made everything freeze up. Blaine was clutching his phone in one hand and the other was going through his hair.

 _Fuck, he knows._ He’d read the texts between Dave and him and was going to accuse him … it wasn’t even his story to tell so should he lie and … would he leave him now that he’s came so far from the mess he was in less than a week?... would he sing a song and accuse him of being a cheater or he’d begin shouting now?

Kurt could feel himself slipping into numbness and fought hard against it, “Give me my phone,” he more or less begged. He didn’t want Blaine to leave or shout, he was a terrible boyfriend, he should’ve known that the coming clean part would arrive soon; he should’ve kept his distance with Dave and … “Is this why you’ve been acting strange?” Blaine stepped closer and Kurt flinched.

Yes, but there was no choice. I had to help him…

“I said give me my phone,” he tried again but more or less surrendered for the inevitable break up talk about to be unleashed.

“Who’s Chandler, Kurt?”

It seemed like everything was much easier to handle now, Chandler wasn’t even a bleep in the problem radar. If that’s his reaction to finding out about Chandler what would be Blaine’s reaction to Dave? The guy that he’d kissed several times in his dream… However unpleasant, the thought sealed in his head, Blaine could never find out about Karofsky, not ever.

“Why are you going through my phone?” was his reply and an honest question, why would Blaine ruin their moment after everything Kurt did to piece everything back together? His question seemed to anger Blaine more and he nearly spat the words, “I'm not going through your phone. It's just that it keeps buzzing. Because Chandler won't stop texting you.”

Kurt tried to calm him down, because really, texting Chandler was …. innocent, “please, just give me my phone. There’s no need to get upset.”

It seemed that it only made Blaine angrier, “no need to get upset? Are you listening to yourself? This is cheating, Kurt.”

The same old speech he’d had not long ago with Rachel, but now he couldn’t face his angry boyfriend, couldn’t count down his reasons even though he was beginning to voice some of them and quickly fell silent, he really didn’t want to be shouted at and everything was just tiring. He felt stuck. Texting Chandler was one of the few things that helped him stay calm and not panic over the week and for Blaine to dwell on that, however right it might be made the hurting worse.

“This is what texting is supposed to be like,” he whispered, talking to himself mostly but then Blaine’s sharp intake of breath made him look up to meet with so much hurt in Blaine’s eyes that broke his heart even more. Blaine forced the next words with the same amount of hurt in his eyes, “you like this guy?”

Of course not but when Kurt tried to reassure him, Blaine just wouldn’t accept.

“Blaine, no, just forget about it. It’s nothing,” he offered as his last resort. He couldn’t reveal anything without pointing to the main problem and the real reason why this happened and maybe it was too late and too absurd to hope to be forgiven.

He was soon proved right.

“It’s not nothing, Kurt. You really think that this is nothing? God, I can’t talk to you. I feel like I’ve taken crazy pills. I’m gonna go now.”

Kurt was pretty sure this is what going into a shock would feel like; it felt like a slap, the sudden energy going out of the body, feelings freezing and focusing on a single thought of _“Blaine’s broken up with me”._

Soon, other thoughts would come, damn the survival instinct, thoughts offering him comfort and reassuring him that it’s not the end of the world and then a reality check that it was bound to have happened soon. He tried to move but all he could manage was a few steps before slumping against the bed, on the floor.

His hand blindly searched under the mattress until he found the hidden blade. Tonight he didn’t deserve to be brought comfort, this was for punishment. He experimented with a few horizontal slashes for a couple of minutes and harshly wrote “loser” when the pain dulled. He shouldn’t be thinking of ending it right now, it was cliché and pathetic but Blaine hated him and nothing made sense so anything could happen tonight, stuck on reprimanding all that he’s done. Kurt Hummel was a failure.

“Kurt?” a soft voice invaded his thought and for a moment he thought he’d finally crossed the line and gone crazy, imagining things but then his head snapped up and was met by Blaine’s intense and worried gaze. His mind was working so slowly and he glanced down at his hands to assess the situation he was in and how to defend, what to say but Blaine quickly beat him to it, “what are you doing?”

His voice was all innocent and scared like a child and Kurt could feel deep shudders in his body coming to surface and _why is Blaine here?_ Screaming in his mind. At some point he couldn’t take anymore.

“I’m doing laundry, that’s what I’m doing.”

He hated himself he really did, he could see Blaine flinch as he started to laugh, but he really couldn’t stop. He really wanted to tell everything, to reassure that he’s not doing _that_ but his mind was mocking him, his scratched arms were mocking him.

Blaine was on his eye level, kneeling in front of Kurt and he asked once more, kinder than Kurt deserved really, “what are you doing, Kurt?”

And maybe that’s what broke the spell, the gentle sound of Blaine trying to understand him, even after specifically telling that he wanted nothing to do with Kurt. _What was he doing?_ Kurt didn’t know, all was blurry in his head. His sight was blurring too, so he tried to reach for his bottle and took a few careful sips when Blaine handed it to him.

“I can’t keep anything else down,” he informed upon Blaine’s questioning gaze.

And then, as if universe was answering _Could my life get any worse right now?_ a buzz sounded in his phone. Kurt closed his eyes, Blaine was going to get mad and leave him now. But then he felt a gentle hand putting the phone back in his hand and he opened his eyes questioningly to find Blaine smiling sadly and offering him his phone. He unlocked and looked at the first text.

“I’m thinking about it… -Dave”

This has to be the worst day of my life, was the last thought on Kurt’s mind when everything shut down and became black.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For some of the finer details in this chapter, visiting chapter four of Unanswered Goodbyes is recommended. I didn’t want to bore the people who had previously read the story and repeat the whole dialogue and flashbacks, so I just stuck to the key scenes and my favorite parts. There are some shenanigans of copying parts of that chapter into this one, so be warned.

Next time Kurt opened his eyes, he recognized his own phone in Blaine’s hand and stared at his frowning face and it all came back. He remembered all that happened. _Blaine’s gone from my life_. The familiar tightening in his throat informing him he was about to throw up. He ran to the bathroom, slamming the door, and barely had time to reach the toilet before he heaved. He closed his eyes. Never again, his mind echoed surely. A sentiment shared by many on the similar position he was, but certainly not for the same reasons.

But then there were cool, comforting hands on his neck and rubbing on his back and a tender voice, shushing. “Go away,” he told Blaine weakly. He didn’t have to see him like that, it made Kurt feel guilty and self-conscious and really, that was saying something, considering all the emotion roller coaster he’d been through that day and well, he had been puking his guts out.

But Blaine was touching the hand that grabbed the toilet seat tightly with contrasting softness and pushed the hair out of his face and sensing his presence calmed down everything in a record time. He washed out his mouth and flushed the toilet and couldn’t help but to lean heavily on Blaine, who more or less carried him to his bed. His body was cold but his hands were clammy and he shuddered appreciatively at the warmth the blankets provided and the slight relief the cold bottle brought to his pulsating head as the inevitable headache forming up.

A few moments passed, and then he heard Blaine cautious “Better?”

He replied quietly, “yeah, it’s all right now,” and really it took everything he had not to cry. “I’m sorry you had to see that.”

Embarrassed wasn’t even beginning to cover how he felt, but Blaine brushed it off. Kurt could feel a breakdown bubbling in his chest and idly wondered if he could last and refuse to become a sobbing mess while Blaine was here.

“Do you want to tell me what’s going on?”

Kurt sighed, thinking it through and shook his head, _Here goes nothing_. “I guess it’s only fair, for you, to know.”

And then he started from the beginning, drawing comfort from the fact that Blaine hadn’t left the room, screaming and shouting obscenities, but instead looking sadder at each passing minute.

Blaine hadn’t stopped his monologue, not even once, only small noises and deciphering his body language showed that he was actively listening and Kurt needed to know, needed to analyze. But then, when talking started to get heavier, it was as if he couldn’t bring himself to care. He couldn’t care about how Blaine’s jaw clenched and his body tensed as he recalled the jocks calling to him how he should be the one dying, or as they eloquently put _“you’re up next”_ , right after Karofsky’s attempt. It felt numbing, almost like reading from his notebook, or checking off a checklist, as Kurt recalled the events to his wide eyed _boy….friend_. Then he began recounting the events after visiting Karofsky and he could feel the boy getting restless. And then his memory started messing with him and he’d have to imagine and guess at some points and finally looking around helplessly finished his speech. He felt lighter after sharing all this with Blaine, but really, what difference did it make?

“What about Chandler?” Blaine asked him and Kurt laughed bitterly, “gosh, he was the dorkiest dork I’ve ever seen. I met him at the music store and then he began complimenting me and when he asked for my number I gave it to him.” He removed his hand from Blaine’s to silence the upcoming question, “I know. It was a stupid thing to do. But then, I had something to laugh, and there was a possibility each time my phone buzzed that it was just Chandler, goofing away, not Dave talking how much he wanted to die and how unbearable it was for him,” his voice wavered in the end and he looked up to the ceiling, “and it just, it felt so good to let it go.”

Blaine began drawing soothing circles on the back of his hand and hummed thoughtfully, “You should rest, Kurt. You had an exhausting day. Sleep, I’ll wake you up in a couple of hours.”

It was all the invitation his body needed before shutting down, resurfaced only by a couple of nightmares and memories running wildly in his dreams. But it was by far the most soothing nap he’d gotten in a long time and it felt even better as he felt a soft pressure on his neck and a warm weight humming beside him.

 

* * *

 

Kurt didn’t know how long he had slept, so he had no idea if it was early in the morning or late at night. He felt strangely comfortable. Then he decided to get up and a fresh wave of nausea hit him. What was he thinking? Eating cafeteria food? They were the worst. He felt like throwing up before, during and after eating it. In fact he just felt like sticking his finger down his throat and make himself throw up. But he was tired of throwing up and wouldn’t consider initiating it himself. It made him feel more disgusting.

Oh, he remembered now. It wasn’t cafeteria food; it was that damned toast that took forever to eat. Well all his plans to stay normal had clearly backfired and the all attempts were currently flushed down in the toilet.

He rolled to his side. He knew from experience that he should just curl into himself and wait for sleep, or more likely, dawn. And then he came face to face with a very soft, breathing blanket.

“Gaah!” came Blaine’s voice. _What is Blaine doing here?_ Kurt wondered to himself. He didn’t have to think for long before he realized Blaine was talking to him. “Umm, Kurt? A little help would be nice.”

Kurt turned on the lamp. Apparently he’d startled the boy so much that he fell right off the bed but his legs were tangled between blankets, not letting him fall completely, so he was just hanging backwards. It was the funniest thing, Blaine’s helpless face hanging upside down, and yes, the silly boy did try to wave at him that caused him to sway dangerously, but Kurt couldn’t laugh. What if he’d fallen face first and cracked his head. Or got a concussion? How would Kurt drive him to the hospital and what would have happened if they wouldn’t get there on time? And there would be blood, So much blood. He already felt dizzy.

“Kurt? It’s not that elaborate. Just pull me up please.” Blaine said it loudly but casually. Like he fell off the bed on a daily basis and Kurt immediately knew he did it to keep him calm and was extremely grateful.

“Up you go!” Kurt finally made his body move and got Blaine up.

Blaine stretched and ran his hand through his hair once. Then immediately cheered up and pecked Kurt lightly.

“Well, that’s an effective waking up method. Don’t let my mom ever find out about it.”

Kurt froze and was immediately overwhelmed by the loving and once casual gesture. He couldn’t cry now. His mind was rousing and reminding details of the past couple of hours. That’s when he remembered the text.

“I’m going to step out for a moment, I have to call Dave,” he informed Blaine.

“What do you say that we go visit him tomorrow?” Blaine asked, not unkindly. _And he said **we**_. Did that meant that he’d also come with Kurt, because quite honestly, facing Dave was not something he’d ever liked to do alone. But he couldn’t fight the polite side of him reminding that Blaine didn’t owe him anything.

“Well, I have to check with him. He had a quiz tomorrow so he wouldn’t be able to come until…”

“It’s already too late.” Blaine smiled lightly at him. Kurt froze.

_Too late? Now wait a minute, visit him where? As in Morgue? His Grave? How long had he slept? What? How?_

“God, Kurt. Stop it, you’re a mess. Calm down.” Blaine shook his shoulders, bringing out of his thoughts, “I meant to say that he’d already agreed. Look for yourself. ” his phone was thrust in his line of vision and Kurt risked a glance.

_“Can you meet me tomorrow in Lima Bean? -Kurt”_

_“Ok -Dave”_

As if putting two and two together for a child, Blaine explained slowly, never faltering his gaze from Kurt’s.

“We’re ditching school tomorrow to go talk to Karo…Dave. We’re going to fix everything, Kurt. I promise you, you’re not alone. You won’t ever feel this way again.”

Kurt looked down on Blaine hugging him lightly. Many emotions were running in his head, fighting to take over others. He couldn’t decide which was going to resurface and tried to wipe his face clean of any of them, in case Blaine looked up. Sadness at the situation, fear of what would happen tomorrow, hurt and confusion but surprisingly anger. How could Blaine do that?

“What the hell were you thinking?” yep, definitely anger won the battle. After sharing only bits and pieces of what happened, why did Blaine feel confident enough to text the boy, not knowing the real extent of damage, one wrong text and he could…

“You went through my phone and sent a message with my name on it? Give me that.”

Time to do some damage control. He began typing quickly.

“You safe? - Kurt”

He paced the floor frantically, worry eating him alive. “Why hasn’t it delivered yet?” he cried helplessly and yelped when his phone vibrated in his hands to show not only the deliver report but also a single “Yes”. Phew.

Blaine’s eyes shined with a dangerous glint and he pulled Kurt back to himself.

“Don’t you realize what he’s doing to you? You can’t go on like this. It’s really killing you and it’s killing me to see you like this.”

Rationally, Kurt knew all that. He also knew the _“can’t go on like this”_ part. But…

“I can’t help it,” was all he managed to offer weakly as a failed attempt of excuse.

“I know. Just relax, ok? How about some musicals and cuddling, huh? That always makes everything better,” he offered.

“Moulin Rouge?” he remembered the last time Blaine had stayed over for watching movies and he’d wanted to watch that movie. He also remembered how that turned out. His nose scrunched up but he had to endure this, because today Blaine had put up with so much more than he should have.

Blaine looks at him thoughtfully. “How about Mamma Mia instead?”

Funny Greek storyline, familiar and nostalgic Abba soundtracks… Kurt wasn’t going to refuse.

* * *

 

“What are _we_ going to do tomorrow?” Kurt asks in a joking tone, which can’t help but notice that has some note of fear to it, and he knows Blaine could, too. Because he really did feel scared. Every encounter with Dave had left him scared. Add Blaine to the equation and he was terrified.

The movie ended a while ago. It was nearly dawn. There was still an hour or two left until it was acceptable to wake up the rest of the household.

“Well, I talked to Sebastian while you were asleep,” Kurt looked away and felt tears sting his eyes. _Well,_ that _took you long enough._

“He’s been volunteering, for several years actually, for a teen recreational program in Ohio,” Blaine explained and Kurt did a double take.

“The program is basically a support group. Therapy and several activities are included, but most importantly, you’ll have mentors and different contact persons in case something went wrong. It seems like the best option for now.” Blaine laughed nervously. “I’m sure Sebastian can persuade him to at least pay a visit. I know it wouldn’t solve anything for now, but at least you wouldn’t worry about him, right?”

Kurt could only nod once.

“So I just thought you might want to see him, talk to him. I don’t know it seemed like the best I could think of, but if you don’t want to do, I’m sure me and Sebastian could go, or I could stay and …”

“Thank you,” Kurt whispered, and settling quietly against Blaine, feeling the tightness in his chest finally coming loose.


	11. Chapter 11

Kurt woke up from his short nap, realizing that night was the most sleep he’d had in a week. But still, he felt tired. As if a day of normal sleeping reminded him how much sleep he’d missed. He looked up the clock then checked his phone, _“I’ll be there in an hour – Dave”_ , which was sent about fifteen minutes ago and jumped off the bed. He realized in the process he’d woken Blaine and the boy was looking around dazedly. Neither of them were really much of a morning person and were generally unsociable and downright zombies even, before the first cup of coffee. Kurt personally thought talking in the first hour after waking up was an unnecessary way of communication and a grumble was all he could manage.

They took turns in the bathroom, changing clothes. Blaine had a couple of spare shirts and pants as well as an emergency hair gel bottle in one of Kurt’s drawers for this kind of last-minute sleepovers. While Blaine was changing, Kurt took off his books from his bag, his back to Blaine to give him some privacy, leaving his slushie survival kit and a random essay that only needed proof-reading. He needed something to distract himself in case David decided to show up late.

“Are you going to take your school bag with you?” Blaine’s voice interrupted his thoughts.

“Yeah. I mean, I really can’t imagine going anywhere without being prepared for emergencies,” he tried to joke, “I mean what if the café didn’t have clean napkins, or the barista tripped and poured the coffee all over your pants. I really can’t go out of there looking like I’d wet myself and then…”

“Ok, I get it.” Blaine raised his arms in surrender, then eyed the bag with a strange expression, “Umm, I still need some time for gelling the hair. You go ahead; I’ll be down in a sec.”

“Ok, but be quick. If we don’t leave in ten minutes we’re going to be late,” Kurt said and made a move to go grab his bag but Blaine almost leaped forward.

“No, I’ll…I’ll bring your bag down for you.”

Kurt rolled his eyes at Blaine’s antics.

“Fine. You really need coffee, Blaine. You’re weird in the morning.”

“Tell me about it,” Blaine sighed and turned to the mirror, already putting the goop of gel and scowling at his hair, willing the curls to behave.

* * *

 

They actually arrived at the Lima Bean with ten minutes to spare. Kurt scanned the tables. It was a school day, so it was eerily quiet and beside the occasional middle aged couples who would enter to get their caffeine fix, and talked, no other type of customers had arrived yet. He found the most secluded place and sat down. Blaine was already paying for the coffees and approaching the table with a charming smile. Kurt felt his breath hitch up in his throat. That was, until Blaine put the cup in front of him.

“Where’s my coffee, Blaine?” The liquid in the cup was not the black, warm and familiar smelling he would normally get.

“You’re not getting any coffee.” Blaine’s smile didn’t falter even for a second as he continued, “Coffee is bad for your stomach. I got you some tea.”

“But I don’t want tea.” Teas reminded him of the massive amount he used to drink as a child in the tea parties he hosted and times he got sick. But he was fine now. He just wanted to wake up properly.

“Nonsense. Now tell me, are you sure you don’t want anything to eat? Cookies, candy, cheesecake? You didn’t have any breakfast.”

Kurt rolled his eyes. Blaine was awfully cheerful so early in the morning, and he was going to drink his coffee whereas Kurt was stuck with this bland, lukewarm _drink._

“Thanks, but I’m fine with my very strong and delicious tea that would definitely help me stay awake.”

He secretly plotted ways for switching the drinks.

“And I told you, I don’t want to throw up in the middle of a cafeteria, which would be in the bag if I eat anything solid.”

Yep, it was a hundred percent proved theory.

“You sure? They have butterscotch candies too. I know those are your favorite.”

 _Oh, for the love of…_ Did Blaine really have to bring that up? Kurt’s eyes anxiously scanned around. The jock hadn’t arrived yet.

“They’re not, Blaine. I don’t like candies. Just sit the hell down.” Kurt snapped.

Blaine sat down, grumbling adorably to himself.

“No need to be so dramatic. Tea is very delicious.”

A mischievous glint flashed in Blaine’s eyes and he moved closer in his seat, “however, if you want to wake up properly we could have a repeat of last night’s adventures.”

Kurt blushed at that. It was so _Blaine_ to say stuff like that with people in earshot.

“Stop joking about it. You could’ve hit the floor and cracked your head open.”

The last word was hanging in the end, his mouth a perfect O, when the jingling of the door revealed Karofsky, looking around. Kurt sat there, frozen.

It was almost a year since the bullying stopped, well, since _Dave’s_ bullying stopped and his back would still pang with phantom shoves, his face tingled remembering the icy torture he’d endured sometimes more than twice a day.

But now, one look at the boy and the almost healed bruises around his neck, and the hate, the fear even was gone. However the pain had intensified significantly. The pain of another human being suffering from the same situation he had faced. The same situation he was facing still.

Blaine’s gelled head, _Damn, even his gel smells like cinnamon coffee_ , Kurt thought randomly, came into view. He stood in a protective stance in front of him, blocking Dave from his view. He almost missed the anger clouding both of the boys’ eyes but after sending a mix of pleading and furious glances at them, they managed to settle down peacefully.

He could practically feel Blaine’s fake calm and controlled voice as he greeted the boy, keeping his arm protectively around Kurt’s chair. The gesture was sweet albeit ridiculous.

But when Karofsky turned to look at him with hate-filled eyes, Kurt really began to lose it. And when he accused him on telling on him, well, he didn’t exactly have a choice now, did he?

Gathering Dave and Blaine in one room was a bad idea, Kurt found out several minutes later. He should’ve done it alone. He would’ve told him about the program. Dave wouldn’t be this guarded and would be the sweet and scared boy he’d been beginning to know.

Their voices were pretty much raised by now, and several customers were stealing glances now and then. Lack of sleep, not enough food and too many thoughts crowded in his head and Kurt couldn’t even concentrate on his own words… He needed some focus.

“Maybe I should be the one leaving,” came out of his mouth almost before realizing he’d said it. Shocked silence fell upon the table and Kurt sprinted toward the bathroom, feeling tears sliding down.

He locked the door and splashed his face with water. Then, when he was searching his bag for some small towels he always packs, the ones in the bathroom were too rough and would damage his skin, he noticed something odd. His English paper was on the top of the bag and was a bit creased, though he could swear he’d put it between his book to avoid such mishappening. Upon closer inspection, he also noted his pencil case was half open, a few pencils lying on the bottom of the bag, his nail file that he carried around in a smaller bag was nowhere to be found and from his first aid kit, a must have if you’re a popular target in McKinley, the scissor was gone.

A few blank stares and then it all made sense. _Sharp Objects. Blaine._

Kurt was speechless. He didn’t know what to feel. Sadness, self-hatred, knowing that Blaine thought he was that weak but also knowing that he probably has a point to overreact like that. But rejoice or relief in knowing that someone’s looking out for him? No, he could even feel anger overflow and numb other feelings. But no, he certainly didn’t feel any relief that his friend was worried… about him.

One more look at the paper and he allowed himself a five minute break from reality.

* * *

 

Yeah, he’d read and corrected his essay in the bathroom. But now, he felt much better. He’d sorted out his own problems and thoughts. Well at least, he listened to his mind rant and then postponed thinking about it.

He exited the bathroom, feeling two pairs of eyes analyzing him. The situation over their table was so much calmer than he’d expected. He was actually quite shocked at the fact that Dave broke the silence, his voice thick with emotion, “Kurt I…I really want to thank you. For everything. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Kurt quickly gathered that Blaine had finally got to him; one look at the boy confirmed it.

“What are you going to do now?” He asked curiously. Would he really accept to participate? … For his own good?

“I guess you’re right. I can’t keep staying this way. It’s not doing any good for anyone.”

He stared at the jock. The boy with as much barriers to rival his own. The boy with his own set of problems. He was going to get real help. A shuddering breath escaped Kurt’s throat.

“You ready to go?” a bored voice asked. _Sebastian._ He hadn’t noticed him enter the coffee house.

And then he almost ruined all the hard work by the farewell handshake with Dave, jumping up scared. Thankfully Sebastian filled the uncomfortable silent efficiently.

“Well, I’d love to stay and chat but the clock’s ticking. Let’s go. Blaine, you know where to find me when you realized you want to be with a real boy.”

Kurt couldn’t tell how much that hurt. The pain was almost unreal. He could only stand there, feeling the smile stretch across his face. His minded didn’t fail to remind him once again, what he’d lost and how he didn’t deserve him in the first place.

When the door closed, Blaine turned to look at him. But Kurt couldn’t look back.

“Why didn’t you say something?” Blaine asked.

_What could I say?_

“Well I officially lost that right to defend my title as a boyfriend yesterday,” he managed to choke bitterly.

Blaine stared at him strangely, like he’d started saying that he couldn’t wear hair gel anymore.

“Kurt, what the hell are you talking about?”

Was Blaine enjoying this? Did he want him to put it in words, make it official?

“You were going to leave me yesterday. You said it yourself…”

Blaine interrupted him.

“But that was before I knew what was going on. And I said we’d talk. We didn’t break up.”

_What the actual…? Could this mean…? No, it couldn’t. It really couldn’t._

“I cheated on you. It’s a deal breaker.”

“No, you didn’t.”

_Don’t let me hope again._

“I did.”

Blaine threw his hands up. “So I forgive you.”

It really was dawning on him that Blaine really didn’t thought he’d broken up with him. But this wasn’t fair. This didn’t justify the neglect, the hurt he’d put through Blaine. He wasn’t going to come out of this whole ordeal unscathed. It really was best to distance himself and deal with this all alone. He had to make Blaine understand it.

“Blaine, be serious. You don’t have to deal with this mess. You have to find a way out of all this; it makes sense to leave now. Please don’t take pity on me or feel guilty. Just go. You’ve helped more than I dared to ask.”

 “No.” Blaine shook his head.

“Stop acting like a child, Blaine. I’m…”

But then he felt lips on his own, silencing his startled gasp, taking his panic of “we’re kissing in the middle of the coffee shop filled with customers”, leaving him breathless. It felt like forever since he’d really felt this intimacy. The scattered thoughts in his head were nowhere to be found and his mind and body buzzed with bliss.

“You said you’d never say goodbye to me, remember?” Blaine whispered.

And what could he really say to that? He rested his head across Blaine’s shoulder, inhaling the same cinnamon coffee scent he’d hated not an hour ago, feeling…calm.

“I’m here, Kurt. I’m not going anywhere.”

He wanted to stay right there forever. Or at least, as long as his bladder took to explode or his arm to fall asleep.

_Oh well._


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Starting from almost the middle of this chapter, the events are new and haven’t been mentioned on the previous series. Yay! I’m so excited to finally start writing new ideas.

They exited the café shortly after Sebastian and Dave left. Kurt was glad that he and Blaine had sorted it all out. Though the doubts still swam in his head and the nagging feeling still remained. So he couldn’t help but be a little bit annoyed as they got into the car and discarded any attempts at Blaine tried to make for chatting or small talk. Blaine had more or less ordered him to sit in the passenger seat, like he had when they were driving to Lima Bean. He slammed the car shut in return, and yes, it did make him feel like a sulking five year old, but Blaine was treating him like a baby bird.

His annoyance increased when Blaine immediately followed him inside the house and when he headed to the bathroom his eyes went wide as saucers, brows creased, his expression wary.

The breaking point was when he entered the living room again, only to find Blaine half crouching, worriedly studying him. It just was too much. He didn’t want to have Blaine just so he could fret over him and… He didn’t want to become Blaine’s Karofsky. He’d rather die than let it happen.

“Fuck, Blaine, stop following me around. You didn’t even let me drive my own damn car, and I know you already went through my bag and stole my nail file. I’m not going to slit my wrists open whenever you’re not by my side.”

“Sorry!” he added quickly when his brain restarted.

Blaine took Kurt’s hand softly in his own, stroking his sleeves, sending a small turmoil of goose bumps up his spine.

“You left me no choice, Kurt. After a month of not telling me anything I can’t handle not knowing. I had to know what exactly I was dealing with, _we_ were dealing with.” He swallowed heavily and ducked his head.

“I’m not proud about what I did, but I can’t take risks when it comes to you. So I’m very sorry for invading your privacy but I want you to be safe, even if you’d hate me.”

“I could never hate you.” How could he hate this kind, beautiful boy?

Kurt shook his head, his tone softer, “but how can I trust myself if you won’t trust me?”

That was his main concern for now, that when Blaine tried to control his every move, as much as it would be appreciated and relieving, he’d really slip further into the self-destructing path he more or less avoided. But, right now, he was too tired to think. His mind was foggy and snapping at Blaine proved how worn out he really was.

He kissed Blaine softly before he could argue more and held him softly. Today couldn’t be Blaine’s favorite day either. “Enough talking, okay? My head’s not really here. I would just be heading to bed. You should go home and sleep too. I know you didn’t get any last night. We’ll talk tomorrow.”

With a quick nod from Blaine, he went straight to bed, not even changing his clothes and tried to relax a bit.

* * *

 

Kurt had been slipping in and out of consciousness for a few minutes now, resisting the urge to get up, when he felt a weight climbing up in the bed. He momentarily tensed when he felt someone kissing him but then relaxed when his body caught up with who it was. Like anyone else would suddenly climb up his bed and kiss him, his mind scoffed at him.

He opened his eyes slowly, enjoying this version of wake up alarm, his breath caught up in his throat at the sight of the boy so close to him and Blaine smiled tenderly.

“I’m so proud of you.”

He didn’t feel special or worthy of pride, he felt cracked… a failure, but his heart soared the way Blaine was looking at him with so much openness and adoration.

“I love you so much” he choked.

* * *

 

The day passed by quickly. His dad was suspiciously cool with him skipping school, even though he didn’t provide any excuses why he’d done it. And more than one occasion he found Finn hovering around him, offering to hang in his room. While the idea was sweet, Kurt declined. He needed to recheck his essay, not trusting the correction his wild mind provided in less than five minutes.

He was putting the finishing touches on the essay. His earlier idea that none of his corrections were correct was spot on and he also made a good amount of reasonable sentences incorrect. His phone rang, that’s odd, he’d said goodbye to Blaine about half an hour ago, made up an excuse for Rachel about today’s absence and finally texted Chandler that he has a boyfriend and continuing their questionable friendship was not uncomfortable. He apologized for leading the boy on, saying he was going through a tough time. With that, the guilty swelling in his chest for keeping secrets finally subsided. He glanced over the screen, and nearly dropped the phone.

“Oh, hey Dave. What’s up?”

“Hey Kurt. Nothing much. I was visiting the facility all day. I arrived home just an hour ago. I have to thank you, Kurt. I think it’s amazing there,” his voice dropped a bit, “and you know, if it really doesn’t work out with a program there are so many more options. There’s another facility outside Lima specialized for…people like me.”

Kurt tried to order his voice to become cheerful and encouraging. He really was happy for the boy.

“That’s really great.”

Silence dragged on.

“Kurt, are you okay?” Dave added in a serious tone, “I mean really okay?”

“I’m fine.”

“I know that’s not true. Is it true that you’ve been cutting?”

“I…”

Kurt scrambled his brain for an answer, but it seemed that Dave didn’t need one.

“Was I the reason why?”

“No” the answer came immediately, horrified.

Dave sighed.

“You really didn’t look good today.”

“Neither did you,” Kurt argued back.

“I’m going to get better. Don’t worry about me. You have to know how sorry I am…”

Kurt cut him immediately, “there’s nothing to be sorry about. I told you I’m fine.”

“Take care, Kurt.” Dave said. It was obvious that he was crying and Kurt really couldn’t think of anything else to say.

“You too.”

The line was disconnected. Kurt paused for a few seconds, the phone still showing Dave’s contact. A fierce resolve appeared inside him and he took action before it disappeared.

_“Dave Karofsky, number registered as spam.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was short but exceptionally hard for me to write. I hope you liked it.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Starting from this chapter the point of view is not going to be exclusively Kurt’s. The last twelve chapters were necessary to get into Kurt’s mind space and I’m not planning to have him rant nonstop for that long any time soon.

Going to school after having an eventful day such as yesterday seemed surreal. So much had happened in the past two days and on the other side, the school was still the same boring teachers and lessons. He didn’t get the chance to talk to Blaine much. He was busy catching up with the lessons he’d missed. Mr. Shuester approached him in the hallway to confirm that he’d perform his Whitney song in the next glee club session, which happened to be tomorrow. Well, shit. He’d have to prepare a song as soon as he got home.

When the final bell rang, he jumped up from his seat, speeding as graciously as he could muster toward his car. He tackled someone on his way and slipped. The person caught him effortlessly. He turned around. He was so lost in thought that missed Blaine.

“Kurt, can we talk for a second?”

* * *

 

Blaine could see Kurt checking the crowded parking lot before taking a step back from him and plastering on a tight smile. It was painful and a bit offending to watch it. He could sense Kurt’s discomfort since day one. There was no need to hide it. Blaine was nervous too. He tossed and turned in his bed until late and when he could finally sleep, his alarm clock started ringing too soon and after hitting the snooze buttons too many times, he’d overslept. Meaning that, he couldn’t get to the coffee until after the first period. The majority of his first class hadn’t recognized him, with puffed up eyes and barely-there hair gel, yawning and dozing off. He couldn’t wait to get home and catch up with his sleep but he had to talk to Kurt, first.

“How are you feeling?” he began carefully.

Kurt was more relaxed after the question and his answer was an honest “good”. He told him about the Karofsky’s call last night and how he didn’t have a clue what to sing tomorrow.

“Kurt,” he was watching Kurt’s expression carefully as he proposed the main thing that was going into his head as long as he’d find out, “what do you think about getting some help for yourself?”

The answer was going to be negative, excuses were going to be made, and Blaine could see it by the way Kurt’s eyebrows creased but his expression turned soft, showing that he was thinking about how to think of ways to decline.

“Just hear me out. You’ve been dealing with emotional bullying,” he grabbed Kurt’s hands, not letting him talk, “yes you were, for almost a month even. I’m scared to even think about what was going on in your head in that time. Kurt, I could see that something was wrong. And you were ki...harming yourself,” Blaine stuttered the word, his eyes filled with unshed tears, “it’s very serious, Kurt. You can’t just ignore it.”

***

“Ignoring it” was the way Kurt had planned to get over this last month of his life. Pretending it didn’t happen. But, Blaine’s concerned and near crying state made him think again. Getting terrified of a text didn’t stop, he’d skipped lunch. He still thought that with time everything would get fixed, it just needs some quiet, normal time and telling people, much less a professional would just complicate things. Dave’s text of “ _therapist should really be changed to the rapist… Because that’s what they’ll do to you, they’ll rape your mind,_ ” echoed idly in his mind. But then again…

 “I’ll think about it.”

* * *

 

Kurt’s answer was all Blaine was hoping for. He suppressed performing a full-on happy dance right there. His excitement was barely contained and could see an amused smile tugging on the corner of Kurt’s mouth. He gushed, “Oh, Kurt. I’m so glad. And relieved. It’s going to be fine. Everything’s going to be fine. I just wanted to remind you that all of us are here for you. Me, your dad, Carole and the whole glee club. Even if you don’t decide to get professional help, you know, we’re always here. A shoulder to cry on, vent or just cuddle and watch movies. I know I am.”

“Blaine?” Kurt’s voice was serious.

“Yes?”

_Did I say too much? Was I too assuming? Oh my gosh, of course I was. I’m gonna shut up. Wait, I am not talking. I’m going to stop thinking. But that can’t be done. What…_

“You’re babbling like a school girl,” Kurt laughed affectionately, “and I love you.”

_Phew._

“Love you too.” Almost a year of saying the sentence and still his heart would double beat. “See you tomorrow?”

“Sure, get some sleep.”

“I will. I’m looking forward to hear your song and watch you knock everyone out.”

* * *

 

"Saving All My Love for You”, a song about infidelity. Definitely a wrong message, he could almost see Blaine panicking. Next.

“It's Not Right but It's Okay”, a song that would sum up the relationship drama in New Direction perfectly. Next.

“Where Do Broken Hearts Go”, “Didn't We Almost Have It All”, too depressing, he’d definitely cry in it and he can’t pull off puffed up eyes. Next.

Rachel and Santana had already preformed “So Emotional”. Also, too cheerful, too flirty. Next.

Kurt had been going through his Whitney playlist at top speed. None of them were catching his eye and frankly, he had half a mind to say “pass” to the whole ordeal. What has become of Kurt Hummel, willing to give up an opportunity for a solo to Rachel Berry?

What’s the purpose of this stupid assignment anyway? So they dedicated one song to Whitney because it felt right at the moment. It doesn’t have to be a week of songs.

He knew if this was Lady Gaga, he’d be arguing with Mr. Shuester to make a month instead of week. Just, sometimes, finding the right song is so hard.

_I also want you guys to use her songs to get underneath your own feelings._

Kurt lay in his bed, letting the playlist shuffle and drowned in his own thoughts. Feelings?

A knock on the door interrupted his train of thoughts and made him realize he’d been napping the past half an hour.

“Hey buddy, what’s up?”

* * *

 

Burt Hummel stared at the thoughtful figure of his son, lying on the bed. Music sheets were scattered around the bed , but despite his chaotic room, Kurt looked much more composed than the last time Burt had entered this very room.

“Hey dad. Nothing, just getting prepared for an assignment.”

“Oh, is it for that fancy school of yours?”

“No, it’s not for NYADA. It’s an assignment for glee.” Kurt nearly rolled his eyes, but stopped as soon as he saw Burt’s “don’t you dare roll your eyes at me” look. Good.

“How come you’re not going on and on about that NYADA program anymore, huh? Or I don’t know making the list of the apartments in New York and what should remain here and what to take with you?”

To be honest that was the least of his concerns. Kurt had been acting peculiar lately. He wasn’t baking, as Finn would often complain loudly, _too often, really_ , several times a day. When it’s his turn to make dinner or lunch, he won’t make all those difficult French named foods. He made pasta last week. Generic, normal pasta, without any complicated sauce names that he’d scoff and explain the recipe the whole dinner time. It tasted wrong.

Sometimes, he would look at him that reminded Burt of when Kurt had been just a kid, after almost setting fire to the kitchen or having a bad nightmare or just a terrible day at school, which happened more often than not. It was sadness and a look of guilt for needing help. But now, Burt could see a mix of fear in it, in the way Kurt would look away almost immediately or distance himself.

Then yesterday Kurt told him he’d ditched school. God knows Burt doesn’t blame him. He’s got his fair share of ditching school, often to go hang out with his friends in his teenage years. Maybe the reason was the sleepover. Now that’s another fishy business as far as he was concerned. First, Blaine nearly runs out of the house. Next thing, he’s back and asking permission to stay the night.

Sometimes a father just got to worry. At least they’re both very mature kids and he trusts Kurt to come to him. They may not have very much in common but they’ve been taking care of each other, often from afar, as long as he could remember.

“If this is your way of kicking me out of the house and getting me to move out…” Kurt says with a smile and his posture relaxes. They know each other far too well.

“Of course not, kid. I just want to see you excited again.”

“I _am_ excited.”

There’s that look again. He can’t stand seeing that look on his son’s face.

“If it makes you happy, I’ll start listing the items as soon as I figure out what song I’ll be going to sing. I have been thinking about this method of labeling the items, I just need to get my post-its.”

“You know I’m not kicking you out. In fact, I don’t want you to go. Screw it. I just want everything to stay the same. Didn’t you realize that in the past weeks we don’t watch TV together anymore?”

“I had my suspicions when last time you suggested doing dishes and declared an early night and headed to bed. I don't get it. So why have you been skipping that?”

“Because I don't want you to go!”

Burt came to Kurt’s room to check up on him, preparing to give a speech, expressing concern over Kurt’s recent behavior. But Carole was right. There were more unresolved thoughts in Hudson-Hummel household that needed to be talked about.

“I’m confused, dad. You want everything to stay the same but you’re hiding in the kitchen and skipping out television time because there’s going to be no more television time?”

“Ah, you don't get it yet. I know you got a taste of it when you lost your mom, but it's just like the older you get, you just see none of it lasts.”  
Hell, last year he didn’t know if he could make it to the next. But he did and had the best year of his life all thanks to his little boy. He made a family. _They_ made a family. The house wasn’t too big anymore.

“Yes, you and I will always love each other, and you and I will always be there for each other, but, you know, as soon as you walk out our door towards New York, everything's gonna change. And it won't change back. Not to the way it is now.”

That’s what Burt had been so scared of. Everything was fine, more than fine actually. Who knew about the next years, with both boys gone?

“You think when you’re going to visit us in the breaks we’ll watch television and discuss the news just like old times? The best case scenario is catching up on Friday night dinners. And then you’re out of the door. Next year, this house will be too quiet with only me and Carole.”

He could see unshed tears in Kurt’s eyes and he’d hung his head during his talk. He didn’t want his boy to feel guilty. He just wanted him to understand.

“Listen, I am so happy for you. Kurt, really, I am so proud, you know that. Sometimes I just, I want my sweet little boy back. I'm gonna miss you, Kurt. A lot.”

That was when Kurt leaped up from his bed and threw himself in Burt’s arms. With the same trust in his eyes that his dad would catch him and won’t let him fall. He’d grown taller than Burt was and hugging back with a strength that showed very well how different, yet still the same he was from his childhood.

“I'm gonna to miss you, too, dad.”

“I just wanted to make sure everything’s fine with you. You know that I’m here when you want to talk. Don’t be afraid to come and talk to me, ok kid?”

Kurt looked surprised but nodded.

“So, TV after dinner?” he asked.

“You betcha, kid. And no sneaking Vogue for you.”

* * *

 

Kurt would find an appropriate song for tomorrow if it would kill him. But his dad’s speech made him think a lot. He never thought about the things he’d miss when he would move out. He had been doing it all wrong up until now, checking off his calendar, counting days to be an adult, stand on his own feet, become independent. He’d forgotten to cherish these months.

_These next few weeks will be your last here at McKinley._

He hit the next bottom and froze as the song started.

_Express and explore what's really going on with you._

_***_

**_Share my life, take me for what I am_ **

**_Cause I'll never change all my colors for you_ **

**__***_ _ **

**_Lots of... saying good-bye._ **

_***_

**_I don't want to have to go where you don't follow_ **

**_I won't hold it back again, this passion inside_ **

**_Can't run from myself_ **

**_There's nowhere to hide_ **

_***_

_To the last four years of your life._

**_­_ ** _***_

**_Don't you dare walk away from me..._ **

**_I have nothing, nothing, nothing_ **

**_If I don't have you_ **

_***_

Kurt didn’t realize as the song ended and the shuffle landed on “Heartbreak Hotel”, which he’d accidentally added to the playlist. He got up eventually and locked the song on a repeat, before warming up his voice and trying to go through the lyrics. He didn’t have time to brood over how the song hits home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapters are getting harder to write, and not for lack of the writer’s talent ;) I have to admit I’ve been thinking of just abandoning the story. The act of writing and publishing and too much heartache to write a new chapter. Oh well, I’m not strong enough to get the idea out of my head so you’d probably be stuck with me and whining, hopefully.
> 
> Songs used in this chapter:
> 
> “I Have Nothing” by Whitney Houston.
> 
> “Heartbreak Hotel” by Elvis Presley.


	14. Chapter 14

It had been a busy day. He’d done his math homework in English class, his English essay in History and in History, well, he took a nap, burying his head in his arms, with his book as his pillow. It was nearly the end of week and the teachers cared more to get the students to not burn the class down. So, getting them to listen seemed a luxury.

The final class was glee and he was fairly confident that he’d give an outstanding performance. He had his headphones on during the breaks and he could belt out any part, without messing up the lyrics.

Mr. Shuester arrived soon enough and told them there would be an optional glee meeting tomorrow afternoon to sum up the week. The only ones left with scheduled performances that day were him and Blaine and Kurt got up to start.

He felt the familiar butterflies in his stomach. His eyes found Blaine in the middle of second rows and Blaine smiled encouragingly at him. He looked at the other faces staring at him, _friends_ , something he hadn’t experienced outside these walls, people who stuck together despite their many flaws.

The piano played the opening part. Other instruments began to softly pour in. There was a pause when he was supposed to begin the song and he started.

_Share my life_

_T-t-take me for what I am_

His voice seemed to be stuck in his throat. He could feel his eyes well up and his throat close up further in panic. He saw the glances his friends frozen on him, varied between bored to panic and worried.

The band played a few beats and repeated the part he was supposed to sing, but his body, his mind wouldn’t cooperate.

_Cause I-I’ll n-never change?_

The next verse came out as a question and he closed his eyes in shame. _Failure._ He could feel the tears trickling down his eyes and he leaned on the piano and brought out his hands to cover his face. It was easier to pretend that this wasn’t happening. He felt someone grabbing his hand and the other on his shoulder and he was blindly led out of the room.

* * *

As soon as Kurt started the song something seemed seriously wrong. Blaine looked around to see if anyone else noticed but it didn’t seem so. Kurt sang the first verse with so much difficulty that if he hadn’t known better, Blaine would’ve thought he didn’t practice the song or messed up the words but when Kurt started to tremble and his hands shook and his mouth quivered, he knew he guessed wrong. His heart broke when he heard Kurt crying. Kurt kept glancing between the door and the group staring wide-eyed at him. He seemed stuck. It wasn’t time to signal the club to vacate the room or act busy or anything, so Blaine led him out of the room, his mind overdrive on what could’ve happened.

* * *

In the history of the glee club, there were very few occurrences of the performance being interrupted, especially by the performer themselves. The members often stormed out dramatically in the end, but almost never broke down in the middle of the song. The one time it happened had been Tina’s Valentine serenade to Mike, back when he was at Dalton madly in love with Blaine who was in turn crushing on Jeremiah. He heard the gossips then, how much Tina was snickered behind her back. In the following month Santana, and once Puck, declared the song they were going to sing “not suitable for crybabies”. As far as Kurt could remember Tina never sang an emotional solo afterwards. That argument happened over a year ago and was long forgotten.

Now it would Kurt’s turn to be ridiculed, and in the only place in school which he could hold his head up high and relax. The sobs got louder and as much as he tried fighting with them, it only made them find the way out more forcefully, almost choking him in the process.

He could feel the body beside him, _Blaine, who else could it be?_ try to pull away, but he clutched tightly and hiccupped brokenly, “Don’t leave me, please.”

There was so much pain. And at first Kurt couldn’t even make sense of the images flashing in his head. He couldn’t make sense of the reason he’d started crying. It just was so much pain to deal with alone. It felt like having a heart attack, waves of memories, distress, misery, _anguish_ wrecking through his chest.

The sobs had gotten quiet and he was sniffling idly, marveling at the soft feeling of Blaine massaging on his shoulder to lower back.

“Better?”

The pain struck yet again at the calm, yet slightly panicked tone his boyfriend spoke and he began crying again, trembling in Blaine’s arms, his mind no longer cooperating with him to pull himself together.

“So much pain,” he managed to gasp out before falling back to Blaine's arms again.

* * *

Never, Blaine was sure of it, never, he’d seen the boy look so distressed and out of control. He was getting hysterical and with each gut-wrenching sob, Blaine was left to support most of their weights against the row of lockers.

It didn’t take long to understand that Kurt wasn’t going to calm down anytime soon and each time Blaine would offer a comforting word or two his cries got louder. He was so relieved no one else followed them out of the choir room.

The peace and quiet of the empty hallway finally had the desired effect and Kurt eventually calmed down for real. He didn’t look up from his curled up position against Blaine’s shoulder and that scared Blaine, a lot.

Kurt was the one breaking the silence, his voice dangerously monotonous, “so, when can you get me the number for the therapist you mentioned?”

“How do you feel about tomorrow? Or I could set up an appointment for the next week or anytime in the next month.” Blaine was silently panicking. Was something wrong?

“Tomorrow’s good. Just to get over with this.”

“Umm, Kurt,” Blaine started cautiously, “care to explain what’s going on with you.”

“I don’t know,” Kurt’s voice was muffled by his own hands rubbing on his face. Kurt _never_ rubbed his face or eyes.

“I just want to make sure I’m really fine and won’t go crazy anytime soon and cry my eyes out on a stage. I’d have no chance if I pull a stunt like that in my NYADA audition.”

“Stop, Kurt,” Blaine interjected quickly, “you’re not going crazy. I’m sure you’ve been bottling up everything for a while now. I’ve seen you becoming obsessed, surrounding yourself with tons of work. I’m no expert but I guess this was just your body’s way of showing that… ”

“It had enough? Time out time?” Kurt stared back with such intensity and Blaine could only nod in response.

“Well, my body sucks. It could’ve waited some minutes more and then break down. Now, everyone would think I’m a freak and more diva than Rachel Berry. Fuck, I couldn’t even finish the song.”

“Don’t think about it, okay? I’m sure they’d understand.”

Kurt huffed in disbelief. “I even kept you from singing your song.”

“Kurt, don’t be ridiculous. It doesn’t matter. I doubt Mr. Shuester would bat an eye about it.”

“He’s going to kick me out of the club. Or, fail me. NYADA won’t accept someone who failed his glee club.”

“Calm down. No one’s going to kick you out, okay?”

“What song were you planning to sing?”

Kurt asked instead. Blaine immediately took the silent offer of subject change.

“If I told you that.”

“Nice one, Anderson.” Kurt grinned naturally enough. “You had to have your George Michael in a Whitney week. Too bad she didn’t record a song with Lady Gaga or that would’ve been my first choice. ”

Blaine laughed aloud at the description bordered on rambling his boyfriend provided at what would happen if the two completely singers clashed into one song. At the back of the mind the true reason for singing the song hummed. Everything was going to get better, or at least, it had to be.

_Would you be there for me_

_Could you dare to hold me_

_Will my feelings leave me lonely_

_If I told you that_

_I wanted to see you_

_And If I told you that_

_I’ll always keep you_

_What would you say_

_If I told you that_

 


	15. The Appointment

Kurt didn't get much sleep that night. Saying he was anxious was the underestimate of the year. More than once he changed his position on bed and rearranged his pillow. More than once he ignored the idea to call Blaine and have him cancel the appointment tomorrow. It had been a ridiculous, spur of moment idea. And now, he had no idea what he was going to do or more importantly what he would say. He was tired of imagining scenarios in his head, which usually ended with the therapist throwing him out of the room or suggesting him to admit himself to psychiatric ward. But, he never got tired enough to sleep.

When he saw the light of dawn entering his room, he sighed and settled for a long shower. He hoped the shower would calm him down and prepare him for the long day about to come.

He skipped breakfast, coming out of his room late enough so he could only get a fruit bar from the counter and dash towards the car.

The first and second period was almost bearable. The students were too tired to make any loud noises so the teachers resumed their daily dose of droning lectures without a single interruption. The only other sound was Kurt's and a few others pen taking notes.

The bell for lunch rang and Kurt considered spending it in the library, trying to improve his song selection for the audition in one of the few computers which would be free that time.

But, all his planning aborted as he glanced up at the door. Blaine was standing there, leaning casually against the door frame, smiling like he knew Kurt's intentions.

"Hello stranger," he greeted him. "Ready to head for lunch?"

* * *

Kurt had to suppress a grimace. They filled their plate, salad for Kurt, rice with squishy meat thing for Blaine. He picked his tray and headed to the table glee kids currently occupied, leaving Blaine to pick up more stuffing.

The group was talking together in groups of two or three. Most were discussing what they were going to do in the weekend. Some were planning to ditch the "not-mandatory" glee meeting today and honestly, Kurt had half the mind to do so himself. The other half was complaining that he didn't need to be alone with himself before the appointment any more than he already was.

He looked at his lunch disapprovingly when it suddenly disappeared from his view. Blaine sat down beside him and put a new tray in front of him. Kurt looked the contents, cynically.

Rice with cooked carrot and a glass of warm tea.

"What the hell, Blaine?" He asked in shock.

Blaine just dumped the salad he picked into his own tray and smiled innocently at him. "You shouldn't be eating salad. It's hard to digest and it's going to make you nauseous. Judging by how pale you look I guess you didn't have breakfast either, am I right?" he didn't wait for a reply. "So, sweetened tea is going to keep the blood pressure in check while rice and cooked carrot are easy to digest and contain sugar and will give you energy."

"How did you even get this stuff?" Kurt asked curiously.

"The lunch ladies were eager to help." Blaine replied, gesturing to the back of the cafeteria. Kurt turned around to find four of the lunch ladies, smiling and waving fondly. He waved back dumbly and stared at Blaine.

"I think they either like me or I have some sort of "underfed child" writing stamped on my forehead."

"Probably both."

Kurt had to admit the food tasted good and although he couldn't finish all of it, he managed to keep some of it down.

He murmured a thanks when he returned the tray back to the place the lunch ladies were now sitting.

* * *

"Would you give me the address of, you know," his throat was suddenly dry, "the therapist?"

Blaine looked confused for a moment, the books he was picking from his locker swayed in his hand, "Don't worry about it. I'm going to drive you."

"You don't have to…" he started but Blaine cut him off, "Seriously, I want to. I know you're strong and all but I'd feel better if I come with you."

"Fine. I guess I'll just tell Finn to drive the Navigator home."

Kurt didn't argue further. He knew they both had to have each other around, at least this afternoon. When Blaine proposed to skip the practice for a little mini-date slash make-out session it was very tempting, even irresistible.

But then Kurt remembered the clock ticking away mercilessly. How many more practices were left? How many weeks before goodbye? He wanted to cherish those moments with all of his friends and not miss out on anything anymore than he already did.

It didn't surprise him that the optional meeting had more people participating than an ordinary practice. Even Puck with his bad-ass excuse to buy some chlorine for his pool-cleaning business was present. This was glee, after all. Kurt felt some suspicious glances thrown at his way, no doubt debating whether they would receive an honest explanation for his yesterday's outburst. He was glad that they thought better than that. Instead, he allowed himself to bid farewell to the star, the singer everyone admired the best way they knew how.

* * *

Kurt had taken over the wheels. Blaine insisted upon it and opted to play with the radio and give directions instead. He didn't want Kurt to think that Blaine considered him weak in any sorts. It was just that, he knew that Kurt would need moral support or a distraction, maybe both when he came out of the room. Regardless of what would happen and revealed in that room, Blaine knew it was scary to face it alone. His mother had been staying the one hour talk in the first ten sessions, mostly because the cast on Blaine's hand was forbidding him to drive around by himself. But for whatever reason, he was glad to see a familiar face when coming out of that room.

"Are you going to tell your parents about this?" Blaine asked.

"If I decided…if it was necessary to continue the therapy, I don't see any reason why I should hide it from them." Kurt answered calmly.

"Take the next path to the right and then straight ahead. We should be arriving at about half an hour."

* * *

Soft classic music was playing from the speakers. Several news articles were hanging on the walls. A bunch of magazines were thrown carelessly on the table. The interior was made of wood and designed in warm-autumnal colors which Kurt approved. They approached the receptionist's table to announce their arrival and she told them to sit and wait for her to announce the next patient.

He sat down on the comfy chair, forcing Blaine to sit a few seats further. He glanced around nervously and kept his hand on his crossed foot to keep it from bouncing up and down.

This morning he had chosen his attire with extra care. He didn't dwell much like he used to on his clothes but this was important. He had to make an impression in case he decided to freeze up in the middle of the talk. He had chosen toned down colors and a plain outfit. No skinny-jeans or tight fitting shirts. The only subtle touch was the spider brooch resting securely on his dark blue shirt. Since he wouldn't have time to go back home to change Kurt had a similar outfit resting in his bag in the car. In case the current outfit got ruined by a slushie or other abuses that seemed to flow naturally in McKinley.

"Kurt Hummel, the doctor will be seeing you now."

* * *


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I’m sort of nervous for this chapter. I’ve read or seen nothing like what I’ve written and I seriously need feedbacks about how this turned out. So yeah, no pressure ;)
> 
> I’ve also published another one-shot, People Like Us, it’s an angst version of this chapter, somehow.

He smiled nervously at Blaine, who blew him a kiss and offered a thumbs up, then busying himself with magazines.

He knocked on the door and after hearing a soft, almost musical “Come in” entered the room.

He stood awkwardly until the therapist gestured to take one of the seats in front of her. He walked to the closer of the two and sat down stiffly.

_Hello, my name is Kurt Hummel and I’ll be auditioning for the role of mental patient._

He smiled nervously and looked around the room, feeling his heart beat rapidly.

The room was cozy. With a decorative lamp and a few painting hung on the wall. The shelves of the single bookcase held a few scattered books and were filled to brim with artistic decors.

“So, Kurt” she asked, a small reassuring smile on her face, “how have you been doing?”

“Fine,” was his automatic response. However, after debating, he added, “a bit nervous.”

She nodded once. “So, do you want to start with telling me why you’re here?”

“I’ve been a bit nervous lately. Just stressed and I thought I’d better have myself checked up before I get into real trouble.”

“Trouble sleeping?”

Kurt forced his voice to get friendlier, less panicked.

“You have no idea. Sleep is sort of my biggest enemy right now.”

“For how long exactly?”

“I don’t know. One or two months, maybe. Definitely more than a month.”

“Has your weight had any drastic changes?”

“I guess, I lost a bit of weight. Not much.”

“Did you experience any change of appetite recently?”

“I did. I can’t really make eat much. But today Blaine had somehow convinced the lunch ladies for a different, simpler dish, which I could keep down. ”

Upon councilor’s questioning gaze, Kurt immediately added, “I’m not anorexic or anything. I just throw up when I’m nervous. I don’t think I’m fat or ugly or anything.”

“I didn’t say you were anorexic.” She reminded gently. “So, did Blaine suggest coming here?”

“He did. In a way, he did kind of strongly recommend getting professional help. But, he didn’t force me or anything. He only mentioned that he came here when he was facing his demons and I decided that I should come too. Just in case.”

“So, let’s get to know you more, shall we? I’m guessing Blaine is sort of connected to this problem you seem to be facing. This demon? ”

Kurt shuddered inwardly at the choice of words. Demon, indeed.

“Well, Blaine is sort of…” deep breaths, it’s now or never, “my boyfriend?”

He looked questioningly at the woman and she smiled encouragingly for him to continue. He knew the chances of Blaine receiving treatment from a homophobe were practically none-existent. But being gay, there was always fear of not being accepted, of having a look, a behavior that would be the red line, the “too much”, even in the most safe environments.

“He noticed some of the signs. I was getting distracted and fidgety.”

He suddenly stopped. Should he tell her now about the cutting, the whole last month’s predicament?

Not yet.

“So yeah, that’s why I’m here.” He finished lamely.

“Okay, then. Why don’t you tell me about your school? Are you a junior?”

“Senior.”

“Are you getting ready for your final exams?”

And then came a round of Kurt talking non-stop. He talked about teachers which led into colleges, which led to NYADA and New York, which led to glee club. He pictured an overview of what was going on that club, brushing over juicy details. If anyone wanted to know even a tiny piece of daily stuff going on in there, it would take all day.

He briefly mentioned the bullying going on in school upon the inquiries of “any other friends?” but didn’t stress much on it.

Then the topic moved onto his family and he summarized his new and improved family, how Carole met his father, how they’d gotten married and finally settled down.

Blaine was the last thing he talked about. He’d just gotten to Blaine’s transfer when he actually couldn’t make another sound.

Never, not in his four years in McKinley and three years in glee club, who he had to constantly shout to get noticed, and not in his half a year in Dalton which no matter what he did he was met by rolling eyes and impatient and subtle reminders to quiet down had he talked _this_ much in a stride.

When he was informed that the time was up, that was when he realized how relaxed he’d become. He felt, dare he say, happy? Buzzed in the most positive way.

“Kurt, my method for the future sessions, that is if you want to continue, is for you to talk and I’d gather the information that would lead me to a correct assumption of your point of view. You’ll have to help me gather bits and pieces of how Kurt sees the world so I can make accurate diagnosis. How does that sound to you? Can you do that?”

Well, there’s no turning back now, is it? No chickening out in the last minute.

“I’m in.” he replied with a grin.

“So I’m going to recommend twice a week sessions. You can figure out a schedule from the secretary, okay?”

“Okay. I will.”

“Any questions?”

Kurt muttered a “no”.

“It was good meeting you, Kurt.”

She held out her hand and Kurt gawked at it for a moment before remembering to shake it. She followed him to the door.

Kurt approached the secretary’s table. After settling the next date, _Monday_ , and signing some papers, he went to the waiting area to find the sweetest scene.

There was Blaine and a little girl, no more than nine perhaps. They were bent beside the table, their faces scrunched up in concentration as they were busy in what appeared to be a color book. When Kurt came close, both their heads snapped up and Blaine smiled to him.

“You’re back.”

“I’m back.” He replied simply.

“I have to go, sweetie. I’m sure you’ll be coloring just fine. It’s been fun meeting you.” Blaine turned to the mysterious girl.

“You too.” She replied and shook both of their hands formally.

 

What’s up with people and shaking hands these days? The last time he shook hand was when he was in Dalton.

* * *

 

“So, who was the girl?”

They were just starting drive back to the main road. Kurt checked his blind spaces as he pulled into the driveway.

“I don’t know. I don’t even know her name.” Blaine replied timidly.

“So did you have fun? Coloring the color book?”

“I did, actually.” Kurt couldn’t control himself anymore and burst into a fit of, very mature and manly he would add later, giggles.

“What? I did. Eyes on the road, Kurt.” Blaine said. “She just asked me to color between the lines of the picture. That was the part where it’s going to get messed up the most, you know that, right?”

“Did she ask you to draw a little sheep for her next?”

“No, she didn’t.” Blaine folded his arms and sulked silently.

Three Katy Perry and five sing-along songs later, Blaine asked, “So, what do you want to do?”

“What do you want to do?”

“We could always go to your house and watch movies and cuddle…” he waggled his eyebrows mischievously, but Kurt shoved him lightly.

“All we do is cuddle and watch movies. Have some sense of adventure…”

“Well, in that case, there’s a great ice-cream shop not far from here. What do you say?”

“Deal. Where should I go?”

“Take the next turn to the left.”

* * *

 

The ice-cream shop was filled to brim with kids, elementary mostly, using the last hours of daylight to buy ice-cream and play in the nearby park. Of course there would be a park nearby and of course that’s where Blaine would recommend for hanging out.

Thankfully, none of the kids stayed in the store and the seats placed upstairs were deserted. Blaine ended up eating most of Kurt’s ice-cream anyway.

“Blaine?” he wondered aloud, snapping Blaine out of his sugar high.

“hmm?” he managed to reply with spoon still in his mouth.

“I’m going to continue therapy.”

“That’s great, Kurt.” And the spoon was casually dropped in the glass and Blaine’s lips tasted like vanilla, chocolate and a hint of strawberry.


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter another of my one-shots “Some Nights, I Just Want to Go Home” is going to be addressed. I’m going to give a summary of the story anyway, so you don’t have to read it but this is just a heads up.

This was the first week Kurt remembered when he did absolutely nothing.  The laziest weekend he’d ever had. He mostly hanged out with Finn because Blaine was away with his parents and Rachel dedicated the weekend to medicating and improving her vocal capabilities. He found the boy shuffling through the boxes in the garage.

“What do you think you’re doing there?” he asked calmly, although he had no idea what fresh hell would Finn’s newest adventure include.

“I’m making a time machine,” Finn replied, the “duh” part omitted for Kurt’s benefit and sanity.

“So you could ask yourself where you hid the cookies?”

“No, don’t be silly. I ate all of them. To tell the truth, last week’s assignment got me thinking about all the things I’d miss and I decided to preserve it in a box,” he pointed out all the boxes in different sizes and materials he managed to salvage. “Then maybe years later I would find it and I’d remember. Isn’t this like the coolest idea ever?”

“It is kind of cool.” Kurt mused.

And that’s how that day was spent. They searched every corner of the house for mementos.

“We have to put some stuff that would be insignificant in the first glance but actually have deeper meaning, Finn.”

He explained as he added today’s newspaper to the pile.

“And what does this signify for you?”

He tugged at the small unknown object in Finn’s hand, which turned out to be a roll of condoms.

“Finn, What the hell?!”

“This is the first roll I’ve…”

Kurt shrieked “TMI!” and put his fingers in his ears, closing his eyes as Finn was desperately shoving the…thing, in his face.

Finn bravely put the offending object in the box with minimum fuss. The awkwardness quickly died down and Kurt abandoned the work to prepare something to eat. His heart warmed a bit when he spotted one of his pom-poms from his cheerleading uniform lying on top of Finn’s box.

* * *

Kurt tried hard to ignore the gnawing feeling, _I have to know how he is_ , when he was sitting in the waiting room, mindlessly scanning the magazine.

When I get better, he promised to himself, he would. But right now, the best option would be to get himself fixed.

He knocked on the door and waited patiently to hear the accompanying “Come in” before entering.

“Hello Kurt, how are you feeling today?” his therapist asked after Kurt sat in the same chair he had in the previous session.

“I’m good.” He replied. He was a bit anxious now that Blaine hadn’t come with him. Not that Blaine hadn’t suggested it. His boyfriend spent all day dropping obviously discreet hints that he’d be glad to drive him, but Kurt had said that he didn’t want a babysitter and practically sped away in his car.

“So, how was your weekend?”

He told about the adventurous “hunt the memories” experience with Finn and then fell silent, not remembering anything besides that. “Sorry, I sort of forgot about my weekend other than that.”

“That’s quite alright. So before we continue where we left off last time, I noticed something interesting in the form you filled. Is it true that you had a CT-scan about a year ago?”

“Umm, yeah. My dad got a heart attack last year and my step-mom’s kind of a nurse. So, I realized it wouldn’t harm either way, to get checked up.”

“You didn’t mention your dad’s heart attack.”

_I didn’t mention a lot of things._

“He was in coma for a few days and had strict orders to rest for a month. Thankfully, it didn’t leave any lasting damage. He’s exercising more and we, well, me and Carole are making sure he eats healthy. ”

“That’s wonderful. But I’d like to hear more about how you dealt in that time. Did you stay with any relatives?”

“No, I stayed home. Sometimes Carole would invite me to stay with them but I often refused.”

“And why is that?”

“I didn’t want to disturb them. They seemed so happy and I felt like an intruder. It made me miss my dad more.”

Kurt blinked to get rid of the silly tears, “are you writing those down, too?”

“Yes. I hope you don’t mind. I prefer to keep a record of our sessions so I won’t miss anything.”

Kurt shook his head as a silent no. He didn’t mind. It was comforting, actually. Hearing the sound of the pen scratching on paper.

“What’s going on with you now?”

Crap, well, that’s what he’d get for meeting a therapist. He couldn’t hide a damn thing.

“I just remembered the time when my dad was going through his recovery. I was so worried that one wrong move would set him back. I was so scared that I would l-lose him.”

“Were you the only one taking care of him?”

“No, Carole helped too.”

“You told me you were worried one wrong move would set him back. Would you explain this more?”

Kurt was getting a bit annoyed that with each discussion everything turned to how _he_ felt. His dad had a heart attack, who cares how _he_ felt?

“The morning he had the heart attack we fought. It was quite silly, actually. But, after that I was careful I wouldn’t say anything that might upset him.”

“How was your sleep that time?”

The question caught him off-guard.

“Not much. I was mostly awake to make sure my dad didn’t need anything.” _Didn’t die in the middle of the night._ “I had a few nightmares so it was pretty messed up.”

The therapist shifted in her seat, moving closer, “what kind of nightmares?”

“Umm, one that happened most was I was talking to my mother’s grave, telling her about my day and then I would notice a new grave in the cemetery and it was…it was my dad. I would become upset and then I would hear my mom’s voice telling me that she needed my dad with him and it was… it was intense.”

“Did you talk about your nightmares with anyone? Your dad, maybe?”

_Waking up in the middle of the night, blindly reaching for Burt’s bedroom, only to make sure that he’s there…he’s alive._

Kurt glanced at the watch, “our time is up.”

She chuckled, “Okay then. I want you do an exercise before our next meeting.”

“If it involves smiling to random strangers and doing a good deed each day, I really don’t think it’s a good idea,” Kurt replies half-joking, half-worried.

“I want you to write in a piece of paper about things you’ve encountered and how did it make you feel. Then I want you to rate that feeling, how strong it was. Do you think you could do that?”

“Sure.”

“How did you feel about this appointment?”

Kurt thought for a moment before replying, “Draining.”

She nodded. “You didn’t seem as nervous as last session.”

“Yeah, I guess. I knew what to expect this time.”

“Well, that’s good. See you next time.”

* * *

Kurt stood uncertainly in the living room. He could hear Carole washing something in the laundry room. His dad could be heard arguing with a customer over the phone in the kitchen. He had to tell them. Today, he sneaked out in disguise of a date with Blaine but he couldn’t go on this for the rest of his _meetings._ They deserved to know the truth.

He could tell Carole first, as Blaine suggested.

* * *

Burt ended the call with a huff. Stupid people, screwing their cars and asking for discounts, because apparently they tried to fix the cars themselves first.

“Dad, you alright?”

He turned around to see Kurt, looking somewhat pale. “I’m fine, son. How are you doing?”

He couldn’t help but think back to the time when Kurt had confessed to being gay. He had the same dazed, scared expression.

“Dad, I’m … I’m going to tell you something and you have to promise not to jump into conclusions, okay?”

“Okay, kid. Shoot.”

“I’m seeing a therapist, dad.”

“Oh.”

_What had he missed?_

“I’m fine dad, I swear. I just wanted to sort some things out and Blaine suggested and I agreed.”

“Is the therapist doing any good for you?”

“Yeah dad, she is.”

“Then I’m fine with it. You do what you need to do to feel better, okay?”

“Dad, I’m good, really…”

“Just promise me, Kurt.”

“I promise, dad.”

“And you’re going to tell me how much this appointments cost. I believe I have to raise your monthly allowance accordingly.”

“Dad, there’s no need for that. I can pay for it myself.”

“I’m not arguing this with you, kid.”

“O-okay. Thanks dad. I love you.”

Burt could feel his throat close up and caught his son in a bear hug.

“Love you too, kid.”


	18. Ticking Bomb

_The idiot matching short black skirt with bubble gum pink sweater… feeling: angry, insulted. rate: pretty darn high._

Kurt closed his notebook and suppressed a sigh. Today he had another appointment. It was beginning to feel like all he had ever done was driving to that place, sitting in that stupid armchair and go on and on about his miserable life and _how it made him feel._

"Hey, Kurt!"

Rachel's voice got him out of his reverie. Oh, so he had to thank Rachel Berry, aka fashion disaster, for his first entry.

"Hi, Rachel. To what do I owe the pleasure of seeing… _this_?"

"Oh, do you like my new ensemble? Anyway, I just wanted to ask if you're free this afternoon for a little practice on our songs. You can drive with me."

"Actually, as flattering as that is, I can't. Umm, I have a date with Blaine."

"Oh, okay then. How about I come over on Friday?"

"Good. I'm sure it would work out just fine. Finn would be ecstatic," Kurt replied sarcastically.

"We'll hide in your room and practice."

At this, Kurt grinned.

"I can't wait for it."

* * *

"So, I see one crossed out line, which appears to have the words, " _bubble_ ", " _sweater_ ", " _insulted_ " and " _high_ " in it and one, " _guy in front of me won't move, feeling: smashing his head inside rate: moderate_ ". So is that all you've been feeling in the past four days?"

"To be honest, I didn't felt like going around looking for things that made me miserable. I didn't see any point in that."

"The point of this assignment was to keep a record of your everyday feelings. It doesn't have to be all about negative feelings. Write about things that make you happy."

"I don't like the idea of inspecting my emotions in every waking moment. It makes me feel like a ticking bomb." Kurt told, somehow frustrated.

"I want you to notice your emotions during the times outside out meetings. Because, Kurt, from all that you've told me, you don't pay much attention to them. Which is why you may experience feeling fine, normal but then you will feel overcome with sadness or anxiety you don't know how to control," she finished softly, "does that sound any familiar to you?"

"I…I think, it may be. A bit. The anxiety part, mostly." He thought back to the sleepless nights, or the times his mind wouldn't just _shut up._

"Kurt, from what I gathered in these three sessions and from the questionnaires you filled on your first day, my professional diagnosis is that you have depression and severe anxiety disorder."

Kurt leaned back into the chair. It creaked under his weight.

"Is everything alright?"

"How bad is it?" Kurt whispered, closing his eyes.

"It's pretty common, actually. And in your case, it doesn't get in the way of your life much. You seem to handle school and social life real well. Your grades are good. So, we can work on it in our next sessions."

"I just don't understand. All of this, all I've been feeling and dealing with is just depression? I mean, it doesn't make sense. Isn't depression for those girls whose boyfriends have broken up with them?"

"You'd be surprised how much chaos this little depression would cause," the therapist told, smiling at him. Oh, he might as well call her Laura. It seems that he'll be seeing a lot of her from now on.

"But, you see, I'm not depressed. I…" Kurt gulped and looked nervous around, "I haven't been entirely honest with you. About why I came here."

There was a few minutes of silence and the therapist put down her notepad. "Take your time."

_I thought about cutting and harming myself._

_My biggest bully almost died on me._

_I can't watch a single fucking movie that has blood in it and not throw up afterwards._

"I-I-I had a friend. Have a friend, really. And umm, he kind of, tried to kill himself?" he glanced at Laura, who wore an unreadable expression, "how did _that_ make me feel? Freaking terrified. He used to text me all the time, about how his therapy went and how horrible life is and how he wanted to die. And I couldn't… I couldn't deal anymore. I was messing up. I almost made him die again. I almost made _me_ die."

"Kurt, listen to me. I need you to calm down, okay?"

He became aware of his surroundings. He had forgotten where he was and he'd almost made a tiny hole in his armchair from pulling the fabric too hard. Then, to his mortification, he burst into a round of uncontrollable giggles. He was surprised to find tears rolling down his cheeks. He held up his hand, meaning to say he needs a minute. He took a few deep breaths to settle down. His hands were still shaking.

"How are you feeling?"

"Fantastic," he replied with a tight smile.

"Well, unfortunately our time is up. But I can assure you, Kurt, you are depressed. And what you told me today is clearing a lot of things up, so thank you for being honest with me. We'll be going to work in our future sessions to make it better."

_That's very reassuring…_

"Thanks."

* * *

Kurt felt his phone vibrate. _Blaine,_ he put it on the speaker and continued to drive.

"Hi, Blaine."

"Hey, how are you doing?"

"I'm freaking fantastic. How are you?"

"I'm great. Just finished my homework, actually. I was hoping we could meet in about an hour, make it a date?"

"Oh, please. You just want to ask how therapy was. It was torture, happy now?"

"Kurt, maybe it's not a good time for me to call? Talk to you later?"

"What do you mean it's not a good time? It's a fantastic time… fucking asshole." He yelled when the car beside him veered to his line, without flashing any lights.

"Blaine?" _shit, what did I do?_

He looked at his phone to see the call had ended. He redialed the number.

"Blaine, I'm sorry. That moron of a driver almost crashed into me."

"Are you alright?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. I'm sorry about earlier."

"It's okay. I shouldn't have called right after your session."

"So, a bit Mr.-know-it-all again? " Kurt found himself getting angry again. He wanted Blaine to be irritated, to shout profanities at him. He didn't want calm and understanding Blaine.

"Kurt, I don't know what's going on with you" Blaine sounded frustrated and a bit resigned, "but I'm going to hang up and I suggest you don't call me back until later. I love you."

Kurt turned on the radio for the rest of the way and cried at every love song it played.

When he arrived home, the only thing he wanted to do was go to his bed and sleep. In less than an hour, Burt and Carole would be back from their respective working places and he didn't want to worry them with his erratic behavior.

"Dude, Blaine just called to see if you'd come home. You told Rachel you'd gone on a date with him, but when I asked him how was the date he seemed puzzled. Is everything alright?"

Finn was already standing up from his place on the couch, looking quizzically at his disheveled appearance and flushed face.

"Everything is fucking fantastic," Kurt answered annoyingly.

"So you didn't go out with Blaine?"

"If it's so important to you, no I didn't."

When he saw Finn open his mouth to question further, he practically saw red.

"For once in your life, Finn, leave me the hell alone."

He stomped to his room, opening his notebook, he almost tore the paper he wanted in half.

_Blaine wouldn't leave me the hell alone. Feeling: angry._

_Blaine is trying to control my every move after what happened. He thinks I'm going to break. Feeling: alone, lost, angry. Rate: high_

_Finn is either oblivious or more observant than I can handle. Feeling: I can't handle attention. Rate: whatever._

_Receiving a text message. Feeling: terrified, nauseated. Rate: Ranging between unbearable to pure pain._

He looked at his handwriting _, whiney, ungrateful child_ , and he threw the notebook off his bed. Feeling stuck.

He looked at the ceiling, _hello, old friend,_ it seemed sleep wouldn't come anytime soon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Review, please! 'cause I don't know what the hell am I doing!


	19. Chapter 19

Weekend arrived with a heavy load of homework. Rachel drove with him to his house and they managed to review some of their choices and belt out a song or two before Finn crashed and they settled to watch some musicals. Kurt felt like a third wheel and his interaction with Finn was cold and cautious but Rachel claimed watching some Broadway would be highly educational. Blaine had been busy and turned down his offer to join him. They had also been a little distant, thanks to Kurt's blowup, but it was getting better to handle the sudden mood changes. They had yet to have a real chat about their current predicament and Kurt wasn't too thrilled about it. The sessions took enough energy for him to say pass on any more deep thinking or talking.

But as it drew closer to the dreaded appointment, the weight of confessing more was beginning to feel too much. It was nerve-wrecking, knowing that you'd be telling the one thing that has haunted you to a total stranger. On the other hand, Kurt felt determined to tell everything and get it all over with.

His mood changed for worse in the following days. His subconscious wouldn't leave him alone, either. Old nightmares resurfaced, turning more gruesome than the last. Kurt felt too many eyes watching him. He caught Blaine, his dad and even Finn watching him suspiciously throughout the week.

* * *

They met for a quick caffeine fix and some catching up once Blaine heard Kurt complaining he had nothing to do when his teacher calling in sick this morning. Blaine didn't mention he's ditched his History class, instead said he was free too. The teacher would understand, or whatever.

"So, you're going to therapy today?"

Kurt didn't want to talk about his therapy sessions and that was understandable, really. But recently, it seemed a bit awkward, their conversations remaining polite and distant, even those who didn't have anything to do with therapy. Kurt looked around, as if make sure nobody was listening in before answering, "Yeah, I'm going there straight after school."

"So, what's new with you?" Blaine dragged the sentence lamely. Talking used to be their forte and now they were walking on the eggshells.

"Other than being a crazy freak in the night and trying not to strangle Rachel Berry before graduation, nothing much. What about you?"

"My brother's coming to town next week. So I'd be pretty unavailable or highly available depending on how much he's going to annoy me."

"Come on. He can't be that bad."

"I disagree. And you can't judge me, you nag about Finn all the time."

"Well, I have a right to. I can hear him wake up, or go to the bathroom, or whine all the time, and believe it or not it's not appealing. If the house is too quiet I bet I can even hear him breathe, or chew in his room. You see your brother, what once a year? On holidays? Wait a minute, where does your brother live? I can't believe I know nothing about him."

Blaine sighed loudly. "Oh, believe me. It's really for the best. Words cannot describe him. I'm sure he's going to introduce himself in his own way. If he can tear himself away from charming half the population of Lima."

"Don't be mean. As far as I am concerned, you charm the other half, including me." Kurt attempted to bat his eyelashes but couldn't keep a straight face and burst into a laughing fit.

 _God, he looked beautiful_ , Blaine thought. He wished he could always see Kurt like this.

"Blaine?" Kurt's voice brought him out of his trance. His eyes were bright and full of passion. "I'm going to tell her today. About what happened. "

"That's really great. I'm so happy about it." Blaine thought about how to phrase his next question.

"Call me when you get back, or text or whatever you're comfortable with, okay?"

"I will. You're the best."

Kurt smiled and held his hand. Blaine didn't want this moment to end but eventually he caught a look on the clock on the wall and jumped in his seat. He rechecked the time with his watch.

"We're really late and have to head back now, right?" Kurt sighed.

"Yeah, right," Blaine scrambled to his feet, picking up both their bags in his haste.

He began walking around aimlessly in the mall, avoiding large crowds. Crowds always made him nervous. He still had half an hour left. Seeing designs and colors usually calmed him down somehow. But it wasn't enough at the moment.

He felt a buzz go through his pocket. He pulled up his phone and unlocked it.

_"I've never loved you more. Parents are going out. Wanna come over later? X -Blaine"_

He smiled and his heart began beating for a very different reason it used to whenever he got a text.

_"Sure. Love you too. XX -Kurt"_

* * *

"Hello, Kurt. It's nice to see you again."

"You, too." Kurt answers politely.

"I believe we have some stuff to talk about that we didn't have time to work on in the previous session. But first, there's some suggestions I have that I need you to think about."

She waited until Kurt gave a half-nod before continuing, "have you thought about using medication?'

She must've seen the horrified look on his face because she soon continued, "It's pretty normal to use some medication to ease up the therapy sessions. I was going to suggest sooner, seeing how nervous you were on your first session. But, you continued to open yourself up more."

"But, I don't feel comfortable with using drugs. I don't want to rely on them."

"Well, Kurt. We're not relying on them. That's why we have therapy on the side. The medication would make you feel better, more relaxed. The medication would just balance the chemicals in your brain. It doesn't need to be long-term. We could try it for a short period. Say about three months or so."

Being happy was something he couldn't remember anymore. It seemed far away, a hallucination. He could say he was tempted to experience it, but would it really be any good in long-term?

"I'd let you think about it. But, here's the phone number for two doctors I recommend."

"You're going to refer me to another doctor?" Kurt felt strangely insecure and worried about the possibly of doing this all again with another total stranger.

"Yes. I'm a physiologist and I'm afraid I can't prescribe medication. You have to see a psychiatrist for that. But I would continue to be your therapist."

"Okay, I'll think about it."

"You do that. Just be sure to call me before going to your appointment. That way, I'd be able to fax a summary so you won't have to start from the scratch there."

Kurt spent a few minutes analyzing the new possibility before deciding to store it away for later.

"Do you want to start talking about what you mentioned in the last session?" When she sensed Kurt's hesitance and silence, she slowly prompted, "You said that your friend had tried taking his own life."

That's all it took to open the floodgates.

"There were times in the middle of the night, usually after a round of texting with _him_ , I got tired of it, being strong. It was too much and it made me feel pathetic. I would black out and suddenly find myself sitting on the bathroom floor, a scissor in my hand, drawing lines. Searching for something to make me calm. But I couldn't find it."

"It didn't take long that I a thought went in my head, telling me maybe I would find it if I dig the scissor deeper in my skin or stop being such a coward and use a real razor and feel some real pain."

Kurt cleared his throat and continued shakily.

"But then I'd think of my dad, my family, my… _Blaine,_ and I knew that I couldn't actually go through it like _he_ did."

"I mean my dad doesn't even have a clue. He doesn't know a thing about all that's been going on. It wouldn't be fair to him, now that he's happy after a long time."

"And then I'd remember that time after I visited _him_ in the hospital. Blaine was so scared then and after a while I didn't know who I was reassuring that I was fine, was it only Blaine? Or me too?"

"I'd remember the look on Blaine's face when he began crying in my arms and then I'd stare at the blades for hours and think about how to fix it, fix everything. The ideas that came to my head were the opposite of helpful."

"But then I kept telling myself that it wasn't an option. And nobody could know about it; that I hated myself too much to remove everything and just give the release to me. Maybe _he_ deserved that but I didn't. "

A voice interrupted him. "Who's _him_ , Kurt?"

The woman asked with calm and controlled tone. After a few beats of silence Kurt replied.

"Dave Karofsky."

He suddenly felt very cold. A shudder went through his body and his vision blurred. He felt a comforting hand on his knee and looked up from the tile he was staring at, his hand running through his chaotic hair for the thousandth time.

"You're doing very well, Kurt," she said.

"I'm very glad that you felt comfortable to share all of this with me. It helps me analyze everything correctly."

Kurt smiled emotionlessly.

"It was the necessary thing to do."

Then silence came, which was only briefly interrupted by the sounds of pen scratched the papers and notes shuffling.

"Our time is up. So I'll see you next week?"

Kurt just nodded his head. Her eyes became sympathetic as she began collecting the notes.

"How are you feeling now?"

He shook his head and looked straight ahead to the door, not answering, not seeing nor feeling. He shook hands with his therapist and got up.

When he reached to the door, he paused for a second and whispered unsurely, testing the word.

"Relieved, I think."

* * *

The following week Kurt arranged an appointment with one of the doctors Laura had recommended. The receptionist didn't give him a specific time to come by, only writing down his name and phone number.

The clinic is over-crowded. The secretary is an old woman who gives him a quizzical look from head to toe before handing the form he's supposed to fill. There's no music, no packets of tea and instant coffee to distract him. The secretary occasionally chats, loudly, with long-time patients and Kurt wonders how could they greet each other like lifelong friends. Sometimes voices could be heard behind the door, just a soft murmur amid all the chatter. This place was starting to creep him out. He wished he'd let Blaine come.

Patients came in and disappeared behind the worn out door to the doctor's office. Sometimes alone and sometimes in groups of two or three. None stayed in the room more than twenty minutes. Not that Kurt was counting…or analyzing the expression on their faces.

"Mr. Hummel, you're next."

Kurt nodded and got up from his place. He knocked on the door. "Come in."

_Hello, I'm Kurt Hummel and I'll be auditioning for the role of a medicated freak._

The doctor was a middle aged man, with a thick glasses and a beard. He looked… bored, to be honest. Kurt sat down in front of the desk and looked around. The room was bare except a few chairs and the said desk.

_Don't cross your legs._

Kurt uncrossed his legs and tried to calm his nerves down. He told the doctor that his therapist sent him to prescribe some pills. The doctor hummed incoherently and typed away in his computer.

"Why did you decide to start therapy?"

_British._

"Umm," He was caught off-guard. He'd tried to simultaneously prepare and not be prepared for this appointment. "I was having occasional nervous breakdowns and generally stressed a-and my eating and sleeping cycle was messed up." Honestly, his voice shouldn't shake this much.

"So, why do you think you need medication," he stared at the paper in front of him for a moment "Kurt?"

"My therapist explained that it'll make me r-relaxed and m-more open and accepting for continuing t-t-therapy?"  
"Does your voice always shake like this?" he somehow managed to smirk and remain professional, if that was possible.

"N-no, I'm just n-nervous." His attempt at laughing failed miserably.

"Okay, then. Tell me about your family."

When Kurt stuttered through an explanation, he caught him off mid-sentence.

"Have you ever been traumatized as a kid, locked inside a room, a silly prank?"

"What? No!"

"Good. Tell me about your friends."

A short version of glee club. He's gotten the hang of this quick interrogation, aka appointment. The keyword being _quick_ and _brief_.

"Tell me about school."

He tells briefly about bullying and being nervous about finals. He's drawing a blank when the doctor interjects, "what's more to tell about school?"

"Well, there was this one… friend, whom I used to contact a lot after his failed suicide attempt."

"Aaah," the doctor looks at him thoughtfully before turning to his computer again. "What did you talk about?"

"I tried to tell him that life would get better and he didn't need to try again. But there were some occasions when he'd become… triggered and I'd try to calm him down."

"Do you think about him a lot?"

"I used to worry, a lot."

"Are you or have you ever been attracted to him?"

"No, no, I'm not."

"Do you think about it?"

"Pardon?"

"Suicide. Do you ever think about suicide?"

"I-I do."

"Have you attempted it or gotten physical?"

"I haven't attempted s-suicide."

"But you have gotten physical, didn't you?"

"I tried to c-c-cut. Not for suicide, just for… I don't know. I got into therapy before it became more."

"Where do you see for yourself in the future?"

"Graduated from New York, performing at Broadway?"

"In the first week, take half-pills. Then one each day. It's Sertralin. This brand is very mild. It wouldn't make you dizzy or sleepy, you'd just relax a bit. You have to visit again after a months, though. Good day."

 _Well_ , Kurt thought as he head out of the clinic, toying with the piece of paper in his hand, _that was one weird doctor._

* * *

He'd texted Blaine that he was safe and arrived home. To say he was dead tired was putting it mildly. The barely ten minutes session had drained him more than forty-five minutes with Laura. His mind was dizzy and he couldn't physically move himself from the bed.

"Dude," Finn's voice boomed from somewhere in the house, followed by equally loud footsteps.

"What's this?"

 _This_ , referred to the packet of pills he'd gotten from the drugstore. He thought about faking ignorance but when he saw that Finn had also grabbed his car keys he knew that plan wouldn't work.

_Well, shit!_


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Dude," Finn's voice boomed from somewhere in the house, followed by equally loud footsteps. "What's this?"  
> This, referred to the packet of pills he'd gotten from the drugstore. He thought about faking ignorance but when he saw that Finn had also grabbed his car keys he knew that plan wouldn't work.  
> Well, shit!

"Why are you going through my stuff, Finn? It's an incredibly rude thing to do." Kurt narrowed his eyes at his step-brother, knowing intimidating was the best approach.

"I'm not going through your stuff. I just found it on the table beside the couch."

Finn shifted from one foot to another.

"Yeah, well, you're one step away from becoming Christopher Columbus. Keep trying, though."

"Dude, I'm trying to talk here."

"I have nothing to talk about."

"You're scaring me. With all your creepy behaviors, and suddenly disappearing. Don't you dare say that you were with Blaine again. I called him half an hour ago. He was home."

Kurt pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration.

"What are you, my dad? Are you checking on me now?"

"What? No, dude. I'm just worried…"

"Don't be. I'm fine. I'm fantastic." Kurt replies with a laugh so false it makes him internally cringe.

"Dude, calm down. You're shaking." Finn looked at him with alarm.

"Stop calling me dude. This is none of your business. Leave that _stuff_ here and get out of my room." The room spun wildly and he almost stumbled forward.

"Just… stop."

He hurried downstairs when Finn made no move to leave. He just wanted it to stop. Everything…stop.

With cold calm he saw the tray of cookies and two mugs of milk in front of him, steam rising on top. One of the mug's contents were brown. _Nesquik for Finn._

Finn stood beside him, several feet apart.

"You've been doing this a long time, dude... I mean, bro... I mean, Kurt… This whole "Kurt against the world" thing… You can't be the "Superman" all the time. I thinks it's time for it to stop. I know that you used to be alone and had to take care of yourself for a long time. But I'm your brother now. And I am so sorry that I wasn't there for you. But cut me some slack here. I want to help you. Let me, please. "

Kurt spun around, facing Finn.

"Did you make these?" he asks, pointing at the tray.

"Yeah, I did. I was going to bring it for you, but…"

That's when Kurt loses it. He lets out a gut-wrenching sob and almost slams into Finn.

"Woah, woah. The one with Nesquik is for me. I know you don't like it in your milk."

This only makes Kurt cry harder. Finn scrambles his brain at what to do, what to say.

"I could make you one with Nesquik too, if you'd like?"

He can feel Kurt shaking his head across his chest. _He's so small,_ Finn thinks idly. He gives up trying to make sense of his brother and just continues to hold him awkwardly, patting his back with soft touches, like he would do to a newborn baby.

When Kurt would manage to calm down enough, he'd tell Finn about his therapy and depression, how everyday he wished it better be his last. He tells him more than he'd told Burt.

And when he finally stops talking and the mugs are completely empty, Finn would suggest they go to his room and play "Mario Kart". And if he lets Kurt cheat his way into winning, well, that's just what brothers do.

* * *

Kurt wakes up with a heavy headache. It's almost noon. He'd basically slept the day away. He glances at the pack of pills resting on his table and pieces of his memory of last night slowly assembles.

He suddenly remembers to call the doctor's office, reporting about yesterday's appointment, which he was supposed to do first thing last night, _oh well_ , and getting the okay for taking the pills. His therapist also suggests decreasing his sessions to once a week so he wouldn't get overwhelmed and Kurt rearranges his appointments for the following week.

He ends the call and the thought creeps up to him, _his first thought to do after waking up was calling his therapist_. Then, he starts to remember bits and pieces of his last appointment with the weird, _scary_ doctor. Or, more specifically how he almost started to cry and generally made a fool of himself, stuttering all the while.

How had he sunk this low? This wasn't him. What happened to him?

He barely resists the helplessness and soon finds himself on the floor, a scissor in his hand. He couldn't, in his haste, find the usual one so this one is smaller and his fingers can't hold it properly.

He draws the usual patterns, some choice words, up his wrist. The goose bumps rise in his arm at the coldness of the blade. Then he just lets blade stay there, right on his pulse point and stares away numbly. The pulse is so quick…so alive. Why can't Kurt feel like this, _alive_?

He pushes the blade a bit harder and feels the beating go even quicker. He looks down and is surprised to see a small trace of blood sliding down his arm in a lazy pattern.

_Oh._

The blade must've been sharper than he was used to. He looks at the cut, feeling somehow satisfied.

For so long, he's felt stuck in the middle. Full of sickness in his mind, which was brought out in the open following the blow-up that had been Karofsky, and now it wouldn't go back to its dark place. But, really, he hasn't really been that bad. He was so tired of controlling himself. Of fighting to stay good. Of forcing to think happy thoughts. All the things that seems to be as easy as breathing to other, _healthy_ people.

 _Well, welcome to the fun side, Kurt Hummel_ , he muses to himself mockingly.

* * *

Blaine knocks on the door several times before letting himself in with the spare key he's got. He'd managed to ditch Cooper temporarily after dropping him home from airport, leaving him to the eager ears of their parents. He wanted to surprise Kurt. Take him out to lunch, maybe. He'd called Finn and the boy told him that he'd left home an hour ago but Kurt should be home.

The living room was empty, so he headed to Kurt's bedroom. He tried to squish the nervous feeling in his stomach.

He heard a soft sound of sniffling and muffled sobs, so he didn't waste any time knocking, thinking the worst. Kurt was sprawled across his bed, watching television. There were tear tracks on his cheeks and he hugged the blanket tightly to his chest.

"Kurt?"

Kurt wouldn't look at him. Even when Blaine sat on the bed and took his hand, trying to send some warmth in it by rubbing circles. When he started talking, his voice sounded monotone.

"I'm so useless. I have everything, a healthy body, an amazing family, a wonderful boyfriend. Why can't I feel happy? Why am I messed up?"

Blaine looked at television. It was showing some documentary about the kids unit in a hospital. It currently showed two kids, clearly going through chemotherapy playing some games.

"These kids are so sick but they're all happy and laughing. They don't deserve this."

"Oh, Kurt."

"They're just kids. They deserve to grow up. Have a life."

Blaine couldn't take any more of this. He presses Kurt to his chest.

"I-I wish I could let them live my life and I would feel I was worth something," he says softly, pain cracking his voice.

"Hey, none of that. You could always help and donate."

Then he noticed the pack of pills, which remained unopened on his desk. It was a shot in the dark, but Blaine tried anyway.

"Is this about the pills?"

Kurt nods, still avoiding eye contact.

"Kurt, you really should stop beating yourself up over this. Take your medication. You have a mental illness. There's nothing wrong with you. You're depressed. These pills would help you relax for the time being so you could focus on getting better and being happy on your own."

Kurt's eyes fill up with tears.

"What did I do to deserve you?"

Blaine gives him one last tight squeeze and gets up, opening the packet and taking one of the pills in his hands. It's nothing special, really. Just a round, light blue pill. But, it was going to make Kurt get better. It _had_ to.

"What did _I_ do to deserve an amazing boyfriend like you?" he replies with a smile, "now, open up."

Kurt shifts away, suddenly nervous. "I'm supposed to take half of it."

Blaine breaks the pill into half and holds it against Kurt's lips. "I'm with you, Kurt. Don't be scared."

Kurt looks into his eyes, which reflected nothing but love, support and hope. The corner of his mouth lifts up and he manages to smile tiredly, accepting the pill, giving Blaine's fingers a fleeting kiss as he takes the medication. Blaine kisses his cheek and could feel Kurt lean against it, closing his eyes and sighing.

"Come on, let's get out. I believe you wouldn't want to stay and watch movies, do you?"

"I-I tried some Disney but I couldn't …"

Blaine could see Cinderella's DVD cover was tossed beside his bed.

"It's okay. Do you have something on your mind we could do?"

"Can we go to the ice-cream shop we went to after my first therapy session?"

"The one across the park?"

Kurt nodded.

"Good, let's go."

He helped Kurt up and tried to catch his eyes.

"I love you." He said.

Kurt didn't say anything. He just melted in his arms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is dedicated to A., a wonderful boy who last time preformed in our choir this spring before cancer took him away. He was barely sixteen. He was the most optimistic person I've ever met. So full of love and smiles.  
> I wrote this chapter thinking of you. Farewell, sweet boy. Peace and patience for his family and friends.


	21. Chapter 21

_Kurt arrived pretty late at the glee club meeting. Mr. Shuester hadn't arrived yet and the usual chatter of several voices speaking filled the room._

_All the gossip died down when Kurt sat down on his usual seat in the back, saving a seat for Blaine, who strangely wasn't there yet. He could hear the voices getting louder before dying down when Mr. Shue entered. He went straight to the whiteboard to write down this week's assignment._

_Zoloft._

_The words written in red stared right at his face. "One of the members has recently been taking pills. So, this week we're going to sing songs about drugs."_

_"Oooh, I know. Crazy on Drugs. "Puck said enthusiastically._

_"There's no song called Crazy on Drugs, Noah. What you're thinking might probably be Crazy in Love, which we did a mash-up in the sophomore year. I for one would be glad to take the lead," Rachel went on rambling._

_"Kurt, do you have anything to say on the subject?" Tina from his left looks at him, her face curious._

_"What?" Kurt asks, bewildered._

_"Stop the bullshit, Hummel. We know. Now, spill." Santana snaps her fingers at him impatiently._

_"Is that why Blaine went back to the gay Hogwarts? Because you're sick?" Brittany cooed, already getting up from her seat and moving towards him._

_"Leave Kurt alone, guys." Mr. Shuester bellows and Kurt lets out a sigh of relief. "Please welcome the replacement we've found for Blaine. Our newest glee club member, Dave Karofsky. "_

"Kurt!"

"Kurt, wake up!"

"Sweetie, you're having a nightmare!"

"Carole?"

Kurt bolts upright, almost knocking Carole in the head. _It was a dream. It was just a nightmare._ But he didn't feel like it was a nightmare.

"Blaine hadn't transferred back to Dalton, Carole, has he?"

"Oh, honey, no. He was over just yesterday, remember? You went out for lunch and didn't come back until late afternoon."

Kurt closed his eyes and took some deep breaths to get his heartbeat back to normal. After Blaine left, Kurt had spent the rest of the day, researching different antidepressants and most importantly the side effects. Sexual side effects, yuck.

He wasn't satisfied with the scientific description it had provided so he'd searched until he found some sites that had people, real people discussing their lives before and after they'd been put through therapy and medication. Their descriptions hadn't been as detailed as Kurt wanted to know. It was pretty vague. " _I was having less crappy days_ " didn't make sense.

"Kurt, you okay?" Carole patted his shoulder once to get his attention.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Just thinking…"

"Do you want me to bring you anything to eat?"

"No, I'm good." Kurt scrunches up his nose. The last thing he needs to think about right now is food.

"Come on. Not even candy? I think I have some with me."

"You have candy in your pajama pockets?" now that's news for Kurt. Soon he's handed a bunch of small sweets.

"Honey, you're forgetting that I'm Finn's mom. He gets his sweet tooth from me." Carole says with a laugh that Kurt joins in, "The rest of his appetite, however, I'm not responsible for."

"Are you ready to get back to sleep?" Carole asks kindly.

"Yeah. I think I am. Thanks, Carole."

"No problem, son. Now, scoot over."

"What?" Kurt asks, puzzled.

"I'm too tired to walk to my bedroom; I might as well take a nap here."

"But…"

"Kurt, are you really going to kick me out of your bedroom. It's cold and dark out there." Carole says with an easy grin.

"Okay, okay." Kurt surrenders.

"Thank you, Carole."

He receives a gentle squeeze on his shoulder before Carole turns off the lamp on the nightstand and settles herself in Kurt's bed. The sound of her soft breaths slowly lulls Kurt into sleep.

* * *

They've barely survived Sue's craziness today. Kurt was well familiar with the certain madness Coach Sue used to direct the Cheerios, but today the glee club was surprised to find themselves going through a hard routine that apparently nobody could reach even Coach Sue's lowest expectations. And the "pear-shaped" jokes were backed. They were the ones that made Kurt uncomfortable the most. So, he tried extra hard to please her, to no avail.

"What's eating you?" Kurt asks his fidgety boyfriend, who'd been glancing around as he retrieves his books from his locker.

"Oh, nothing." Blaine brushes him off. He looks like he wants to hide, or melt inside lockers.

"You seem a little preoccupied, come on. Tell me." Kurt isn't going to budge.

"Umm, Cooper is picking me up today. He wants to takes me out to "lunch"." He quotes mockingly.

"Why are you making that face?"

"Because I just had lunch." Blaine whines loudly.

"Oh, honey. I don't think blowing one another in the bathroom at the lunch break counts as lunch." Kurt winks, laughing at a very flustered Blaine blushing to a deep shade of red, "but I'm glad you seem to think so."

Honestly, Kurt's scared of that one paragraph on "sexual side effects" he read. He has about three to four weeks before the medication takes effect. And if Kurt thinks that hooking up in the bathroom is the ultimate gay cliché, well, he had to suck it up while he can, literally.

"Besides, I finally get to meet your mysterious brother, who you refuse to talk about. You _have_ to introduce me."

"Do I really have to? I could just tell him to meet me outside school, you know."

"You don't want him to meet me?" Kurt asks in a small voice, hating the way it breaks in the end. _Is he ashamed of me?_

"Oh, no. That's not the case at all. You see, he's a bit too much."

"Blainey!" a voice calls from the other side of hallway.

"Case in point," Blaine grumbles to himself and turns towards the source of sound. "Hey, Coop." he says a bit uncomfortably as they hug. Kurt hasn't gotten a good look on this "Coop" yet, but he can't help but sensing something familiar in him. It must be Anderson genes.

"Is this your boyfriend here?" he asks Blaine, pointing, rather directly at Kurt.

_Coop…Anderson…Cooper Anderson._

"Actually, yes, it is."

"Hi"

_Holy hell, he knows that smile!_

"You're that guy from freecreditratingtoday dot com commercials" Kurt yells excitedly and Blaine shoots him an unreadable look.

"I love those commercials! The jingle's my ringtone!" Kurt rambles on.

The devil woman soon steps in and asks for Cooper to sign her breast, which Cooper proceeds to do so, barely batting an eye. _He's a pro,_ Kurt thinks.

"Blaine, your brother's the best-looking man in North America." He whispers to Blaine. Blaine doesn't look so happy and walks stiffly to the front doors. When Sue pulls Cooper away for the second time, Blaine laughs nervously. "Well yeah, that's why I never really talk about my brother."

* * *

Puck had gathered all of the glee club in the library. Seriously, Kurt was more amazed that Puck knew where the library was than be curious about what he had to talk about to both of them.

It turned out, he wanted to plan for senior ditch day. Of course, the school was a chaos most of the days, let alone the day where about a quarter of the student body went missing so it wouldn't hurt anyone that juniors missed a day too. That's why, Tina, Sam and the others were sitting there and brainstorming for ideas too.

The next glee club meeting, they were surprised, and a bit alarmed to see Coach Sue there. Mostly because she'd chased them away at the end of "booty camp" by throwing music sheets and DVD cases at them. She seems sane enough today and presented a peace offering, Blaine's brother, Cooper. Cooper offered to teach a master class for acting tomorrow. Kurt could see from the corner of his eyes Blaine was silently banging his head against the chair. He pulled him up and sent him to go and sing a duet with his brother, which he did without his usual cheer and energy. Thankfully, his more than enough jumping on the furniture created a false sense of enthusiasm. Kurt made a mental note to ask if there's something wrong with him.

At the end of the song Rachel strode and began a lengthy discussion with Blaine about his brother, whether he'd been dealing with paparazzi, what he'd studied and whether it was possible to get one-on-one acting sessions with him, while the rest of the glee club lined up for autographs around Cooper.

Oh well, he'd talk to Blaine later.

The next day, they headed to the choir room early, sacrificing half of their lunch break in favor of the acting class Cooper assembled.

Kurt couldn't help but notice that Blaine seemed more jittery than usual. "What's wrong?"

"I really really don't want to be here," he whispered back.

"Do you want to go?"

Before Blaine could answer he was called out to act a scene from the script Cooper had brought. His composure was hanging by a thread and when he finally snapped at his brother, Cooper didn't notice. Kurt rose up as Blaine bolted for the door, and ran after him.

* * *

Thud, thud, thud.

"Blaine?"

Blaine was punching the hell out of the punching bag. His face was focused, betraying no emotions letting out grunts when his fist connected with the swaying bag. He turned towards Kurt and then Kurt realized the boy was shaking.

"What are you doing here? Don't you have therapy session today?"

Blaine sniffled and scrubbed angrily at his face, where a few tears had escaped down his cheeks.

"Are you alright?"

"I don't know. Why don't you go and ask my brother?" Blaine said angrily and storms out of the gym, not even getting out of his gloves or changing. He just wanted out.

* * *

"Hey, Kurt. Long time, no see."

"It's just been a week, Doctor Harris."

"It seemed longer," she says with a smile, joking good-naturedly and Kurt can't help but relax and settle more comfortably in his chair.

"So, how was the appointment with the psychiatrist?"

"Okay."

"So, any problems with the medication?"

"Umm, no." Kurt says, remembering the nightmare.

"That wasn't a very convincing "no" or "okay"."

"I mean, I know I'm not supposed to feel any different after just a week of taking pills. But, I don't know. It makes me nervous about what will happen when I do."

"What do you mean by that?"

"I mean, will I still be myself?"

"I'm going to assure you, the only change is you won't feel as jittery as you feel right now. Is there any reason for that particular question?"

"I…I…I just don't like losing control."

"Kurt, do you remember where else have you had these feelings?"

"What feeling?"

"The feelings you're associating with taking medication. I want you to close your eyes and imagine."

Kurt feels silly, closing his eyes, but does as he was asked.

"Kurt, imagine you're taking pills. You have the packet of pills in your hands. Are you imagining that in your head?"

Kurt nods.

"Now, remember these feelings and dig in your memory for similar feeling you experienced. Middle school, childhood…"

"M&M's…" Kurt says suddenly.

"I'm sorry?"

Kurt laughs, he'd forgotten all about them.

"When I was a kid, my mom was sick and taking medication. One day, I asked her why is she taking pills and she answered they're helping her be happy."

Kurt sniffled quietly. "That's the best thing that came to her mind to explain her illness to her barely seven year old son. So, instead of saying her body was slowly fading away she said…" Kurt broke off immediately.

"So, from that moment on, whenever I felt unhappy, I would go and get a pack of M&M's. Each color was for a different level of unhappiness I felt. Then I would imitate her, swallowing the piece of chocolate to and believing I'd get happier."

"What happened after that?"

"I hadn't had a piece of M&M after she died. I know. It's silly."

Laura shook her head, smiling. She was looking down, quickly taking notes.

"Dr. Harris?"

"Yes, Kurt?"

"The doctor also asked me if I'd had suicidal thoughts lately, and I answered yes."

Laura has already shifted closer to him in her seat and Kurt suddenly feels anxious so he finishes lamely.

"I thought you should know. I feel I should open up about that."

"I'm very glad you're being honest with me. You've already shared your preferred relaxing methods and slight self-destructing thoughts, which seemed to be drawing something sharp on your arms."

Kurt nods.

_And writing swear words on them._

"And these are just signs that your mind is telling you that it needs a time-out, that the pressure is getting too much. Same as the suicidal thoughts in your head, your mind is coming up with plans to get out and leave the situation. We're going to discuss them in full detail in the next session. But unfortunately…"

"The time is up." Kurt finished for her, already getting up. Dr. Harris gets up as well.

"There hasn't been any progress on your self-harming tendencies, Kurt?"

"No, doctor." Kurt answers without blinking or looking away.

"Good. See you next week."

* * *

Kurt stops in front of Blaine's house. He was determined to find out what's wrong with him and if that included camping out in front of Anderson residence, so be it.

He's a bit relieved when it's Blaine that answers the door but the expression on his boyfriend's face is less than reassuring. He motions Kurt to follow him to his room.

They settle on the bed and Blaine is looking everywhere except Kurt's eyes. "How was therapy?"

"It was all right."

"Oh, well. That's good. Do you… would you want…"

"Blaine." Kurt cuts him off shortly, waiting until he stops studying his bed sheets.

When he finally looks up, Kurt opens his arms, a silent offer. And that's all it takes for Blaine to lunch himself into a tight embrace, knocking them both backwards.

"I'm sorry. I know you're having a rough time. I'm being a drama queen." He says in the middle of his sobs.

"Shh", was the only answer he gets, along with small circles that Kurt was drawing on his back.

When Blaine felt calmer, Kurt drew him even close to himself, brushing his hair out of his face.

"You don't have to worry about me or be terrified of what you're going to say might upset me or whatever. You aren't supposed to take care of me all the time, you know. Let me help you. What's wrong, Blaine?"

"It's just… When I was a kid, before Cooper moved to L.A, it was always me against Cooper. He didn't really notice how much it bugged me that he was getting all the attention. I mean, I know I lost the never-ending battle for our parents' attention the moment I came out, but before that I always tried to do everything Cooper did and better. I usually didn't succeed and often got labeled as attention seeking and whiny."

Blaine gathered Kurt's hands in his and caressed his wrists lightly.

"This week, all of it just came back. The fighting, the constant feeling of not being seen. And the worst part of it was I didn't feel like you were on my side. You're the most important person in my life, Kurt. And I felt like I was losing you to Cooper."

Blaine heard Kurt's shocked gasp and hung his head, "I know it's stupid. He's not even gay. Although he claims he'd love to play gay characters if offered."

"I'm sorry I made you feel that way." Kurt answers after a few beats of silence. Blaine shook his head but Kurt continued calmly, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

"You know when I was most jealous of Finn?"

Blaine raised his eyebrows in shock and shook his head. "It was at Rachel's horrifying party. You kind of stood beside him, almost hanging from him and said, "you're so tall"" Kurt ducked his head, blushing.

"I said that? I really can't remember."

"Of course you don't," Kurt rolls his eyes, "you already had two glasses of whatever punch Noah had made. You sir, are one of those people that shouldn't drink, ever." Blaine shyly nods in agreement. _Never Again._

"So, then, for a while I did lots of stretching and exercises that promised to make me, umm, taller. I thought that's why you didn't notice me. You didn't see me as desirable."

"You're kidding me, right?"

"I wish I was, but no. I measured myself every day for a week or so before giving up. Oh, well. I admit I wasn't my brightest self when I was hopelessly obsessed with you."

"Well, for what it's worth you are tall. At least, taller than me." Blaine pulls Kurt up on his feet and stands in front of him as if to prove. "And handsome, and funny, and intelligent." He continues to count with Kurt's fingers.

"And…you can't do this with my brother." He gets up on his toes and pulls Kurt in a firm, oh-so-hot kiss. When he breaks apart, leaving Kurt gasping, he whispers, "so I really don't mind if you have a crush on him."

"I don't have a crush on your brother." Kurt swats Blaine's arm.

"Uh huh. You can't fool me."


	22. Chapter 22

The senior ditch day was noisy and fun. Kurt tried to get Blaine to come with them to the Six Flags, even joking that he could give them a tour and recreate his performances there, but Blaine was in a sour mood and told that he had to spend the day with Cooper and his family. Kurt later found out that he said the same thing to his family, that he had to spend the days with his friends and Kurt, therefore he'd stayed the whole day alone in his house.

The day out had been a much needed fun. Mercedes had refused to go on some of the rides she considered dangerous and that had been a great source of entertainment for the group. Especially when the only ride they saw her was a children's carousel she could just barely fit.

The next day, Kurt greeted Blaine with the plush dog he'd won for his boyfriend, well, from Rachel. He got a bit worried when Blaine did that half hearted smile and didn't take the dog from him.

"So, why didn't you come yesterday?" Kurt asked, leaning to the locker beside Blaine's.

"I didn't want to bring you guys down," Blaine said in a sad tone, "I just needed some time out from the madness and have a calm and quiet day."

"You should've told me you were this upset. I would've stayed with stay."

"I'm not upset. I know you would stay. But I wanted you to have fun. You needed it."

Kurt held Blaine's hand in his own, swinging it between them playfully.

"I also need to make you happy, you know? Don't go playing the hero. Talk to me. Hell, talk to Cooper if he's bothering you this much."

"Yeah, right. Because that would be something you of all people do," Blaine rolled his eyes and muttered sarcastically.

"Well, look at what not talking has done to me," Kurt snapped back angrily.

"Well, it doesn't matter anyway. He's never listening to me. He's leaving by the end of the week, hopefully not coming back until Christmas," he shrugged and moved away to the opposite direction of his current class.

Kurt glanced worriedly at his retreating back, debating if he should go after him, but then a better thought occurred to him, he dialed a number on his phone.

"Hey Cooper, we need to talk."

* * *

It turned out that Cooper had absolutely no idea his behavior bothered his little brother this much, just as Kurt imagined. Kurt spent the entire break talking on the phone with him and then in the better half of his class, he texted back and forth with him, trading ideas on how Cooper could make amends and reach out to Blaine.

Kurt beamed proudly at two brothers laughing and bumping shoulders, exiting the auditorium.

"I'm afraid I have to steal your boyfriend for tonight," Cooper winked, but mouthed a thank you as Blaine went to gather his books from his locker.

"Kurt, there you are!" Rachel sing-songed, linking their arms together and pulling him to her side.

"Practice in my house in half an hour, Finn is going to drive your car. Come on, hurry," Rachel

"We already have the top three choices and practiced them several times," Kurt rolled his eyes.

"Well, we only have a week, so we really need to finalize what we are going to sing and focus on that,"

"Wait," Kurt stopped her, mid rant, "Is that your way of telling me that they announced the exact date and time of auditions?"

"I got the email about five minutes ago and have been running around school looking for you. You should appreciate the sacrifice. Do you know how running can damage my vocal chords?"

"Don't be overdramatic, Rachel. I'm pretty sure exercising is supposed to improve your breathing capabilities," Kurt tries to calm his friend, with minimum success.

"Not a week before _THE_ audition, when there's a chance to get sore throat or worse cold. What if my laryngitis starts acting up again? I'm going to take a vow of silence and a warm-drink only diet in the last two days before THE day. You should know that, I've updated it on my facebook page, even my loving fiancé knows that." Rachel rambled on. The idea of Rachel on a vow of silence sounding like a more cherished by each passing minute.

"You know it's not getting any less ridiculous every time you call Finn that," Kurt smirked.

"Oh shush," Rachel dragged him to her car, ordering him to drive so she could plan ahead for their practice.

Kurt makes a short call, rescheduling the therapy session to next week.


	23. Chapter 23

Over the course of two intense sleepovers Rachel has narrowed her list down to "Don't Rain on My Parade" and a Celine Dion medley and Kurt is torn between "Music of the Night" and "Being Alive".

"Okay, Kurt. It all comes down to this night. Several months of practicing and trying to find and perfect the best performances and we finally have to choose _the_ song that's going to get us into NYADA," They're sitting cross-legged in the middle of Rachel's room, which is dark except for a bunch of pink candles burning in a circle. Rachel looks positively insane and creepy, Kurt thinks.

"Okay, why are we doing this again?" Because the bed may be pink, but it's still warm and fluffy and looks so much inviting than sitting here. His eyes are drooping close every thirty seconds or so.

"We're choosing what song we're going to sing. This is how I also came to the decision what I want to say to Finn's proposal," she replied solemnly, revealing two bowls which had little pictures of famous Broadway performers, mostly deceased and was halfway filled with water.

"Rachel, what the hell is that?"

Rachel pulled four pink cards out of nowhere.

"On each of these cards the name one of the songs we have planned to sing is written. So, these are yours," she dropped two cards in the bowl and handed it to Kurt.

"Normally, I'd sing Wicked's "No Good Deed" for these, but I'm saving my singing voice, so this just has to do." She sprinkled some glitter in each bowl and muttered something prayer-like under her breath.

"Rachel, quoting Mercedes, have you lost your damn mind?"

Rachel ignored Kurt and pointed at the bowls with a mysterious glint in her eyes, "Now pick one, but don't open it."

"I'm not cooperating with your insanity." Kurt argued, but when Rachel continued to look at him with the same determined expression, he sighed and picked one card. Rachel cheerfully picked one from the other bowl.

"Okay, Kurt. We're going to sing this song that's on this card." Rachel said, waving her mostly wet card, "now, tell me. What do you want it to be, really?"

"What?" Kurt asked, puzzled.

"I really want it to be "Don't Rain on My Parade". I'm insecure of singing Celine Dion medley, because I may mess up the words or fail to connect to it on an emotional level. Secondly, NYADA is a performing school and Barbara might be a better candidate than Celine." Rachel told solemnly and looked meaningfully at him.

"I guess, I'm not sure about either of them, both of them aren't what I'd normally sing for an audition, but if I really have to pick, I don't want this card to be "Being Alive". I love the song. But I don't want to do an emotional song in front of the alum. That it can easily end up in me crying my eyes out on stage. With "Music of the Night" I can pretend I'm acting a scene and it's much more comfortable than laying all my emotions exposed for someone that doesn't know me or may not even accept me."

"First of all, they're going to love you. And you're not going to cry, you're going to shine and be amazing with whatever song you're going to sing."

"I don't know. I'm just not comfortable with it. So should we open our cards now?"

"Oh, sure. Go ahead," Rachel smiled.

Kurt opened and stared, "I don't understand. It's …"

"Empty? Yeah. But, we found out what we really wanted to sing and that's we're going to do." Rachel winked and got up to blow out the candles.

"So, you do this every time you're torn between what to choose?"

"I have my superstitions. But, more or less, yeah."

"You have your own brand of crazy, Rachel Berry, and I still don't know how I've put up with that for so long," Kurt joked and Rachel laughed warmly and grabbed him in a tight hug.

"My therapist taught me that," she said in a quiet voice, "well, her version was a more boring, writing down and counting pros versus cons for each decision version. But, this is much more fun to do."

"Yeah, for a second I thought you're planning to murder me," Kurt laughed nervously, shifting his eyes away.

"Kurt, are you alright?" Rachel asked, flicking on the light.

"What do you mean by that?" Kurt shielded his eyes.

"I mean, you seem sad. And that Whitney Houston performance you had, made all of us worried, but before that, you've been avoiding all of us, even Blaine. I just want to know why."

"Well, you know. Everyone has their off days," Kurt muttered dismissively.

"But, it was more than that," she insisted.

"I've always been honest with you so let me just get to the point. Do you go to therapy?"

"Who told you that?"

"Well, you know Finn. He can't keep a secret to save his life. I just wanted you to know that you can talk to me."

"Well, that's just great," Kurt grumbled to himself.

"So, it _is_ true."

"Who else knows?"

"No one. Finn was really acting weird, watching over you and cancelling out dates. So, I just guessed. Kurt, you don't have to be ashamed of it."

"Can we just drop the subject and focus on the songs?" Kurt got up and grabbed the pillows on the bed.

"I have my off days too you know. For example, when we lost Nationals last year. When Finn broke up with me. Or when we got the news of Karofsky trying to kill himself. I just needed someone to listen and give me some guidance. I sometimes talk to Finn about it and he's been very supportive."

Kurt sat down on the bed, tracing the threads on the blanket, not saying anything.

"We love you, Kurt. Don't you dare forget that."

* * *

Finally knowing what he was going to sing should be a weight off Kurt's mind. No more double planning. But when he tried performing the song in the auditorium and pretending the judge was standing and looking at his performance, Kurt felt the nervousness and the crippling fear coming back up.

It didn't help when he caught Blaine dozing off after he asked him for comments other that "good", "great" or "amazing" from his twelfth version of performance and Tina was asking for more bathroom breaks, which was code for "making out with Mike".

This wasn't going to work, Kurt knew right away. He wanted to change the song, something that he could pour all his energy into. Blaine was unsure of his sudden change of plans, saying it was stress. His dad was as supportive as always, saying he should do what he feels would be the best. Good thing he had Burt, he calmed Kurt down enough to plan a new routine without having breakdown.

Next day and worst of all, was Rachel's reaction. She came running down the hallways, pushing the students out of her way.

"This is insanity."

"Well hello, Rachel. Aren't you supposed to be saving your voice and not talk?"

"You're in a grave danger."

Kurt rolled his eyes, "for the last time, Rachel. Stepping on tile cracks doesn't bring you bad luck. "

"Are you seriously planning to do "Not The Boy Next Door"? You cannot sing that for your NYADA your audition. We chose our song and now we're going to perform it. We cannot be taking risks."

"Well, isn't that the exact moment to take a risk?" Kurt argued back.

"I think you're self-sabotaging. You're scared you're not going to get in, so you're using something to blame just in case this all doesn't work out."

"Your inner shrink is showing, Rachel. I'm not doing that…am I?" Kurt asks worriedly.

"I think you think you're not good enough, but you are. "Music of the Night" is your "Don't Rain on My Parade". I believe in you, and I believe that song is what's going to get you into NYADA."

When Rachel offered to be Christine, Kurt accepted. Maybe having Rachel performing with him would help, maybe the nagging feeling was just nerves. But when he called Tina, he informed her about a plan change. Maybe it was best to have a plan B on the standby.

* * *

Finding out Carmen Tibideaux was going to judge them had been one thing. The main shock was Carmen's bored once over on his clothes and mask and the barely concealed eye-roll when he entered and announced his song choice.

"Plan B" he muttered to himself and nodded at the girls in the other side of curtain to enter, before introducing the number he was going to do, the change he made to the schedule, "Not the Boy Next Door". He had his doubts when he glanced off stage and saw Rachel looking horrified at him but he knew he made the right decision when the song ended and he saw Blaine's proud smile and what he dared to hope was a positive feedback from Carmen.

"A package for Kurt Hummel," a cheery voice announced, knocking on the changing room's door. Kurt bit back his laughter.

"Come in, Blaine."

Blaine came with an awestruck expression and a bouquet of fresh flowers for Kurt.

"You were wonderful out there. Now, it's over and all we have to do is to wait for results, but I'm pretty sure you're going to get in" he said excitedly and Kurt couldn't help but laugh giddily in agreement. He was thrown off guard when Blaine picked him up and he was half sitting, half leaning on the dressing table. He leaned into the kiss enthusiastically and let his hands roam over Blaine.

"You have no idea what you've done to me today, have you?" Blaine groaned in his mouth and it raised sweet tingles in Kurt's spine.

"The stripper pants… Why did you have to wear those pants?"

"A touch of theatricality to impress the audience, my dear Blaine."

They broke off the kiss, panting heavily. Blaine held Kurt's hand on his heart and leaned his head on Kurt's shoulder.

"Well, you definitely impressed me. But it would've been better if you gave me a warning beforehand," he sighed, looking at Kurt with wonder in his eyes. Kurt smirked in response.

"So Madame Tibideaux had gone back?"

"Yeah, Mr. Shue is driving her to the train station."

"How's Rachel?" Blaine asked worriedly.

"Locked herself in girls bathroom, crying. Finn's with her."

"Poor Rachel," Blaine muttered.

"Yeah, I hope everything turns out okay for her." Because he can't imagine ever going to New York with no Rachel Berry in it. It just wouldn't work.

"Me too. Well, we should go and celebrate, before I have to come back to choir room in an hour to teach Puck how to pass his geography test. With my luck and Puck's strong aversion to studying, I suppose we would have to stay there all night."

"Well, I don't know about staying in the choir room all night. But we could stay here and celebrate," Kurt pulled Blaine closer. And that was all the encouragement Blaine needed to lock the door and spend the hour together.

* * *


	24. Chapter 24

The next day, Kurt found Rachel wandering aimlessly in the halls. She threw herself in his arms when she saw him. Kurt rubbed her back in a soothing pattern.

"I wouldn't be surprised if you got accepted just from the beginning of the song. You can't lose hope, Rachel."

"I'm just being realistic," she sniffled then smiled sadly, "you did wonderful though, Kurt. I'm sure you and Finn will be great in New York."

"Rachel…"

"Kurt, please. Just, let me grieve the opportunity I ruined for myself," she said sadly and barely holding the tears at bay moved away faster than Kurt could follow.

He felt Blaine by his side, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze, but Kurt couldn't help but feel a bit guilty.

The prom was drawing near, and with it Kurt's anxiety level was also rising. The preparation for the finals have started, the teachers giving out questions they found occurred more in exams. Kurt got the schedule for the next week and his blood turned cold. It suddenly dawned on him how little he had really studied. Yes, he spent most of his time in the past month occupied by books, but that had only been for distraction and who knew if he'd been able to concentrate hard enough for studying and reviews.

On the other side, Principal Figgins had asked him to participate in Prom as the previous prom Queen to give out the new crown. That wasn't

The classes were half abandoned by the students, using the opportunity to prepare for finals for a few students. The majority were busy decorating the classes and halls for prom. The theme this year was dinosaurs, suggested by school president, Brittany. Kurt gritted his teeth. He would've been a better president and used this opportunity to force McKinley to dress up for once, instead of using materials and food only used in Stone Age.

The glee club was of course asked to provide the music. For a club so unpopular, they sure got a lot of chances to perform. But, Kurt asked to be spared of those preparations. He explained that he was behind his studying schedule. Blaine of course supported his choice, also blowing off prom and offered to quiz him on Biology and Social studies.

The studying had soon become a vicious cycle. He wouldn't even get close to his books, choosing to sleep, watch some movies or television or go through his endless stack of magazines. But then, when the night arrived, he couldn't sleep at all. His dreams were filled with nightmares. Most consisted of arriving late on the exam or mixing up the date and time or sometimes the subject.

The first exam, Physics, was pure misery. He'd barely slept the night before, instead choosing to review the text over and over again and solve as many problems he could manage. In the end, he was sleepy, his head hurt and he was seeing black dots in the paper, so he had no idea how the exam went. Puck stopped him as he was turning towards his locker.

"Dude, you're going to make me fail this thing," he grumbled, waving his hands in frustration.

"Me? Why?" Kurt asked, surprised.

"Stoner Brett had more correct answers than you. If I copied from him, I would have a better chance to pass. I shouldn't have written them from you. What the hell?"

Kurt felt the room shaking. It wasn't until Puck steadied him that he realized that he was the one shaking.

"Blaine…" he managed to mutter through clattering teeth.

He hadn't remembered that Blaine was busy doing his exam in another class. Finn and Rachel had been the ones calming him down, sitting him down and forcing him to take deep breaths. Finn had gone to the cafeteria and gotten him tea, which was something he later realized Blaine had taught him to do.

He made an emergency appointment with his therapist right after that first exam.

His rejection from NYADA had been another shock to Kurt's system. His phone is blaring annoyingly in his hands.  
"I didn't get in," he whispered, voice barely audible.

"Kurt?"

"I can't talk right now."

That was the second time he arranged an emergency appointment. As always, he left the room feeling ten times better than he did coming in. He had no hope for his future when he came into the room. But his therapist had plans and assignments to do for the next session. He had to think of other options and plans, and a lot to do for his summer.

It was summer when things got better. His medication dosage was reduced and once or twice his therapist mentioned that he'd be able to cut them off completely and go back to normal life.

The bell rang. Kurt opened the door to find Blaine shuffling awkwardly from one foot to another.

"Blaine," He exclaimed excitedly, "you're early! You told me the date is in an hour, I'm not ready yet."

But Blaine looked troubled instead, so he let Kurt lead him to his bedroom and sat him down on his bed. Blaine wouldn't look at him and kept tracing the patterns on the blanket.

"Blaine?" Kurt nudged him gently, "come on, talk to me."

When Blaine finally talked, his voice was monotone.

"Dave Karofsky is dead."

Kurt looked at him for a moment, uncomprehending, then his face hardened.

"Are you sure? It's not another plot to…"

"No, I'm sure. Sebastian called me… "

"Did he kill himself?"

"I…" Blaine stammered a bit, not answering, but Kurt's voice was calm and commanding, "Did he kill himself, Blaine?" he repeated.

Blaine stared straight at him, cautious. "Yes."

"Huh," Kurt replied. Silence followed for a few moments.

"When?" Kurt asked again in the same strange, compelling voice.

"Two days ago. Well, yesterday midnight, if you want a specific date," Blaine was babbling. How could he not? After he got the news, he'd spent an hour or so crying, recalling the last time he saw the boy, he more or less threatened him and told him to butt out of Kurt's life. Then he felt chilled to his core, thinking about how to break the news to Kurt and how he would react. He was terrified that Kurt would regress.

"That's funny," Kurt said, "you know, that was his birthday, two days ago, August 10th. I contemplated sending him a birthday wish text, but then decided against it."

Blaine took his hand and moved closer, Kurt smiled at his gesture.

"Don't worry. I'm fine, really." But Kurt pulled Blaine in and hugged him close for a long time, not saying anything.

"We did all we could. I'm devastated, sure, but it's true," Kurt whispered, "when is the funeral?"

"Tomorrow, do you want to go?"

"Not really. But it's the right thing to do. To pay respect."

Kurt stood up and moved around the room, arranging the clothes in his closet. Blaine was once again blown away about how Kurt seemed almost unaffected, he had to ask him.

"Kurt, did you… did you know?"

"No, I didn't," he shook his head, "just yesterday morning, I found some messages in the spam folder, they could've been anything really, but I just deleted them," Kurt shrugged, "I guess I'll never know then, what it was all about."

Blaine was at loss for words then, so he just nodded once.

"What do you say we just hang around here instead of going on a date?" Kurt broke the silence.

"I was just going to suggest that. Movies and cuddles?"

Kurt smiled at him and held up a DVD box.

"Moulin Rouge?"

"Actually, I was thinking of a different kind of movie," Blaine said and offered another DVD from his satchel.

"It's kind of a funny story?" Kurt read the title out loud.

"Trust me, you're going to like it," Blaine pulled at his waist, steering him towards the bed, holding him close.


End file.
